Coming Home
by Mama Skree
Summary: Death, life, and change. Seems like it happens to everyone. The Romulans are starved for power at the Federation's expense. The Federation must rebound after a tragedy to defeat the Typhon Pact in a ruthless, cold war while the crew of DS9 sacrifice everything to stay together after their world has been torn apart. Set in early 2383, slash on the novels, canon-centered otherwise.
1. Chapter 1

_Just one more relay, _she frantically thought to herself. _Just one more and then I can flip the manual override to eject the fusion core. I think I'm going to make it. I think we're going to be okay... _

Commander Kymberli Rzepka's hands flew over the control panel like rockets as she concentrated on the ejector system. Determination dripped from her fingers, begging to expedite a mostly doomed mission. Deep Space Nine was in the middle of a total evacuation after the discovery of several bombs around the fusion core, but she knew everyone wouldn't be able to get off the station when the reactor went critical in four minutes.

_Four minutes left, _she thought again. _Four minutes to live... or die. _

"_Dax to Commander Rzepka, I'm getting you out of there. Prepare to transport." _

"NO!" Rzepka practically screamed back at the voice of her best friend and continued to work. "Three more minutes! Keep evacuating the civilians!"

"_You have two." _

_I can't let the station go like this. She deserves so much more from us. From me._

The young commander was the only one left in the engine room. Everyone else had been evacuated over five minutes ago. When the security team had discovered the reactor had been sabotaged, they all knew there wasn't much hope to save it. Kym was convinced she could disassemble the reactor ejection system, then she could eject the overloading core manually.

"_Warning. Reactor breech imminent. Core temperature reaching critical levels."_

The computer had no idea what was about to happen. It's calm, female voice was as monotone as it had been the day she arrived on this station. The station she once hated. Now, the station she was risking her life to save.

"_Warning. Reactor breech imminent. Core temperature reaching critical levels." _

"I KNOW! SHUT UP!"

Her scream released a tiny bit of tension in her hands as she continued to work. The engineer's temper flared as her heart rate sped up.

Palms clammy.

Hands unsteady.

Stomach knotted.

She knew she had to hurry. Every second counted. _"Warning, sixty seconds to reactor breech." _

Hands flew faster.

Breath picked up.

Heart beat frantic.

_One more second... _

She flipped the tool she was using and suddenly was filled with immeasurable joy. The override worked. She stood and practically ran to the opposite side of the room, reaching for the lever to pull and manually activate the ejector system. Her hand never touched the lever.

Suddenly, a bright light filled her eyes. _Is this it? Did the station explode? Am I dead?_

A few moments filled her with a panicked wonder until she materialized on the bridge of the _USS_ _Aventine_. As soon as the transporter materialized her body, she immediately stumbled off the transporter pad and Captain Ezri Dax's loud, commanding voice filled her ears.

"_Shields up! Helm, full reverse, NOW!"_

As soon as the commander picked up her head, she saw her station – her home – explode into a mass fiery blast. Suddenly, the Breen and Tzenkethi ships surrounding them didn't seem so important. _Aventine_ shuddered under Rzepka's feet as she watched the debris of the station scatter out into space.

The captain continued to give order to fire upon the enemy ships – the Breen and Tzenkethi – even though most of them were in retreat. Commander Rzepka couldn't move. She could barely breathe. She lowered herself into a chair nearby as she tried to process what had just happened. Deep Space Nine was gone.

"_Captain, the Breen fighter is moving in for another pass at Defiant." _

"_Head them off. Fire phasers, target their weapon system." _

"_Captain, a Romulan ship is decloaking off Defiant's port."_

"_Hit them before they get their shields up! Quantum torpedoes!" _

Captain Dax wielded her power as a starship captain like a double-edged sword. She was relentless in fighting the ships who were still attacking the federation vessels. She'd had enough. And she was angry.

"_Romulan target destroyed, sir. The other ships are breaking their formation and moving out. Should we pursue?" _

"No," Dax begrudgingly replied, watching the Breen ship appear smaller and smaller in the view screen at the front of her bridge. She hated what she was doing. She wanted to follow them and destroy every single one. "Let them go. We have other fish to fry."

After what seemed like forever, but was only a few minutes, the enemy ships dispersed, leaving _Defiant_, _Aventine_, the runabout _Rio Grande_, and a few other Federation ships sitting around quietly, licking their wounds and wondering what happened.

Captain Dax's face appeared in front of Rzepka's, who was still seated toward the back of the bridge. She looked at her friend with sympathy in her eyes.

"Kym..." Dax breathed. The commander seemed to be in a state of shock, not looking up and not saying anything. "Are you injured?"

Rzepka shook her head. She still didn't look up at her friend, but muttered the only thing she could think about. "I almost had it."

"It almost had you. Even if you had activated the ejectors right when we beamed you out, the core wouldn't have been far enough away. It would have destroyed most of the station anyway. You did the best you could." The captain's voice was soft as she knelt on the floor in front of Rzepka. The commander finally looked up at her friend and sensed nothing but understanding and sympathy.

"Captain," a young ensign said loudly. "The _Rutledge_ is hailing us."

"On screen," Dax said with a sigh, standing and making her way back down to the front of the bridge. Captain Benjamin Sisko's face filled the screen, looking grim.

"Dax," he started. "The fleet is going to rendezvous... personnel and civilians accounted... headcount and recovery operations..."

Commander Rzepka couldn't understand what the captain was saying. She was drifting somewhere between real time and perceived time, going back to the station and trying to will herself to move faster, even though the moment was over. She barely understood why she was stilling on _Aventine's_ bridge, along with several other crew members that were evacuated from the station.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Five months prior...**_

February, 2383

Romulan Senate Praetor Gell Kamemor shuddered when a cold rush of air came over the dark gray conference room. Her mind wandered - to thinking of the special dinner she had planned for her wife, wondering what her son was up to in school that afternoon, wondering what temperature the environmental control was set on...

"Praetor!"

The Tzenkethi's shrill voice startled Kamemor out of her daydream and she sat up straight in her seat, giving the Tzenkethi a cold look.

"I wouldn't believe you would address me in such a brash manner, Ambassador Prell," Praetor Kamemor replied quietly.

"I apologize, Madam Praetor," the Ambassador replied. "But I believe you weren't listening."

Kamemor looked up at the Tzenkethi Ambassador. His face was twisted into random formations around his nose, eyes, and mouth. It almost looked like an abstract clay sculpture. She recalled never having seen two Tzenkethi look alike. Each one was like a fingerprint - very unique in it's own away. And, in her opinion, rather ugly.

"I've heard enough," the Praetor started, allowing the irritation in her voice to be very apparent. "This conversation is going no where. Until we figure out how to get to the Dominion ship yard quickly and without detection or starting a war, we have nothing." The five ambassadors - Breen, Tzenkethi, Kinshaya, Tholian, and Gorn - all nodded their heads. "I expect to hear not a word until someone has a tangible idea on how to get to the Gamma quadrant and get the mission accomplished."

Kamemor's heart wasn't in the meeting that day. She rather hated the Typhon Pact and even more, she rather hated her newly-appointed position as Praetor of the Romulan Star Empire Senate. One simply does not "say no" when offered a Senate Praetor position, so she took it, knowing she would have to deal with a very messy and unpleasant situation with the Typhon Pact.

In her opinion, Romulus was too hungry for a victory. Since the start of the Typhon Pact, Romulan leaders had made several attempts to attack the Federation and it's allies. Once such attack on Utopia Planitia, Federation ship-building yard, prompted Praetor Kamemor to put her foot down to hostilities. Attrition warfare was no way to acquire the slipstream warp technology the Pact was desperate for.

"I have an idea, Madam Praetor."

The booming voice belonged to the Kinshaya representative, Peq'nor. He was covered in dark brown hair, with a snub nose and tiny lips. _Another unfortunate species,_ Kamemor thought to herself. _It really is a shame we can't have nicer looking allies. _

"Please," Kamemor annoyingly said, with a wave of her hand in the air. "Spare no detail."

"What about the Bajoran wormhole?"

Kamemor narrowed her eyes in irritation. It was getting close to dinnertime and she was hungry. _I'm surrounded by morons_, she admitted to herself, but rather decided to speak more reserved words. "What _about _the wormhole, Ambassador?"

"The way to the Gamma quadrant is the wormhole. We've steered too far away from the obvious. We can't get there quickly enough any other way. We need to stop planning on how to get there, and start planning on how to neutralize the wormhole."

"Federation presence around the wormhole is thicker now than before the Borg invasion," the Tholian Ambassador, Krull, piped up his expertise. His environmental suit was bright yellow, the only portion of his body being revealed through the clear face mask. His triangle white eyes contrasted sharply with his red outer carapace. "Overcoming the Federation without starting a conflict would be nearly impossible."

"I'm not talking about starting a conflict. I'm talking about... starting a distraction..." Peq'Nor slowly suggested. Kamemor picked up her head and stared at him, along with all five other ambassadors.

"Continue, Mr. Ambassador," Praetor Kamemor impatiently commanded.

"Perhaps staging a disaster. A power source overload. Disable a few flagships, destroy the station guarding the wormhole... what station is that again?"

"Deep Space Nine," Krull added quickly.

"Right," Peq'Nor piped up. "Make all of it look like an unfortunate accident. Power overloads. A terrible string of bad luck."

"Out of the question," Kamemor quickly shot back at the ambassador. "I will not have the blood of any Federation citizens on my hands. Or any of yours."

Peq'Nor sat back in his chair, stroking the long beard cascading off his narrow chin. The Praetor was playing too clean for his liking, but he decided to go with it. He knew they had to get to the wormhole, no matter the cost. "Alright. No dead citizens. How about a forced evacuation? Planting a few light bombs on the power source of the station should disable the station and prompt an evac. The flagships will be so distracted with the maneuver, we should be able to get a few ships in the are quickly and through the wormhole without anyone really noticing."

Praetor Kamemor looked down at her PADD on the table. A new message appeared on the screen as she thought about the Kinshaya's idea. She quietly opened the message:

_"You're not working late again tonight, are you?" _

Kememor's wife, Ravent, was eager to spend the evening together. She smiled to herself ever so slightly as she stood. _No, sweetheart_, she thought to herself. _Not tonight._

"Ambassador Peq'Nor. Let the record state that I abhor your idea. However, if you can prepare schematics, materials, and a battle plan for this idea, I will hear it again at next week's meeting. I hereby dismiss this council."

Kamemor immediately left the meeting room, leaving the ambassadors behind to discuss the seemingly terrible plan.


	3. Chapter 3

_*Author's note: I don't own Star Trek or Paramount or any of their elves or characters or ideas. But, if I **did**...*_

_I still can't believe I'm doing this. _

Julian Bashir settled into a large, soft green arm chair in the counselor's office. He folded his hands into his lap and stared at them, his face grim. Two ongoing research projects awaited him in the infirmary, another waited to be started. He had crew physicals to upload into the station's data base and several home-bound patients to visit this afternoon. He didn't have time for counseling.

Regardless, he promised his good friend and colleague, Dr. Girani Semna, he would attend a few counseling sessions to alleviate his growing anxiety and subsequent relentless worry. He noticed his anxiety level growing since the Dominion War and especially since the Borg Invasion. That, and frontier medicine on Deep Space Nine was **_nothing _**like it used to be.

Finally, a tall young man dressed in the same blue uniform as Bashir entered the office from the left. He smiled and lowered himself into another chair. "Good morning, Doctor. How have you been this week?"

_Miserable_, Bashir thought. _My work is stacked a mile high on my head and I can't see any light at the end of any proverbial tunnel._

"Fine," Bashir casually lied. He thought about how skilled he had become at lying and it made him feel sick.

_Of course, I can help out with that crew roster._

_No, I don't mind picking up that extra shift._

_I think it would be good for your career._

He thought about the last lie. The big one.

"Fine, eh? Why don't you tell me a bit more about it?"

The counselor, Lieutenant James West, pressed the doctor for more information. The past four sessions he'd had with the doctor had not been very fruitful, and West hoped today was the day. He wanted Bashir to open up about his issues so they could start working on a solutions.

"Not much to say," Bashir shrugged. "Work and... more work."

West wasn't happy with that answer any more than Bashir was. He pressed harder. "What is it that you want out of these counseling sessions, Julian? I need a little something to work on, here."

Bashir felt his temper brewing. "I'm not sure why you ask. I've already told you. I need to get rid of some of this anxiety. I need to think more clearly."

"Okay, tell me what you're feeling anxious about right now," West pressed again. His voice was stern but sincere.

"You really want to know? Okay," Bashir struggled to keep his temper under control. "I am doing the work of three doctors and Starfleet won't send another physician to fill Simon Tarses' position. I've asked at least a dozen times. I want to get some research done, but I'm constantly interrupted. When I sleep, it's broken and only for a few hours at a time. On the rare occasions when I'm off duty, I spend my time alone, in my quarters. All of my friends have gone onto other things. I have no outlet. Everything I do to relax or unwind reminds me of..." Julian paused for a moment while a wave of jitters and vulnerability came over him. "Of... her."

West thought for a moment. He knew the doctor was under tremendous pressure at work, and his only solution was to balance work with leisure. The problem was with the leisure.

"Reminds you of whom?"

Julian looked at his hands again. Every bone in his body wanted to let her go, but simply didn't have the strength to. Since he left her company three weeks ago, he couldn't stop thinking about her. Dreaming about her. Missing her.

"My ex-girlfriend."

His voice was quiet, submissive. His flaring temper immediately calmed when he thought about her. He could almost picture her face now, close to his, smiling at him.

Lieutenant West nodded. He had seen many cases of post-relationship anxiety in his years as a counselor and knew how Bashir felt.

"Where is she now?" West's voice lowered and engaged sympathy. He wanted Bashir to talk about the relationship so he could get a better idea of how to help him start to get over it.

The doctor sighed. Overcome with sadness, he shook his head. He felt helpless over his emotions, so tied to this one person like he had never been before. He just didn't understand. "Out on assignment. 700 light years away... too far away."

West sat back in his chair and thought. Bashir wasn't fresh out of a relationship. He was missing one. Judging by the sadness in his voice when he talked about it, he was feeling pretty miserable about the relationship. He decided to give the doctor a few moments of thought to see if he would start talking on his own.

Like clockwork, Bashir started confessing what was eating at him.

"I asked her to come back. Here. To the station. It was a really selfish thing to do, looking back. I told her it would be good for her career, when really I don't think it would make much of a difference. She doesn't love this place like I do," Bashir mumbled. "I hated leaving her. But I had to. She's just... God... I've never felt what I feel when I'm with her. And I hate that too."

"So you broke it off?" West pressed again.

"No," Bashir snapped back. He drew another breath to calm himself, again. He focused on his own heart, concentrating on regulating it's rhythm. The tingling in his hands faded as he took another breath. "It was a mutual decision. When she left on the assignment, we tried to make it work. It was just too hard. Then I went to visit - to help her out with something - and I hated leaving her there. It was like I was leaving a part of me behind. We've just been... through so much together... I just... feel like I should protect that."

"Protect... the memories? Or her?"

Bashir slowly looked up at the counselor. He suddenly understood why he felt the way he did. He was still in love with her.

After several long moments of silence, West sighed and shifted his weight. "Okay, how about a different approach?" The counselor stood and meandered to his desk, opening the drawer and pulling out three holosuite sticks. "Relaxation programs. Try each of them, let me know which one you like the best. I think you need something new. I really think you'll find some relief here."

Bashir held his hand out reluctantly for the programs, vowing to himself that he wouldn't waste the time to try any of them. He was determined to be the most difficult patient he could be (after all, doctors do make the worst patients.) He forced a crooked smile and raised his eyebrows. "Same time next week then?"

West narrowed his eyes in frustration. _He wants to play hardball? Fine. _ "Yes. And keep in mind if you haven't tried the programs by then, I will be happy to make a note in your record."

Bashir slowly stood as his ears heated up with anger for the persistant counselor. He narrowed his eyes back at the lieutenant, ready to fire back.

"Save yourself some time. Make the note now."

**Julian lovers: Don't feel sad. He'll be okay. I promise I would never do anything to hurt Julian. I can't vouch for my other characters, though. Leave some comments and let me know how I'm doing. I'm really trying to fall in line with this Fanfic thing. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Personal Log, Supplemental

_Why does my mind keep wandering back to that night?_

_The pain was so intense, I couldn't get comfortable. I tossed and turned in my bed for the better part of an hour before my bedroom door creaked open. Damn him and his super-sensitive hearing. _

_His thoughts drifted into the room before I saw his face and before he slowly pushed open the heavy door to poke his head inside. His voice was just as soft and caring as I remembered. I was both relieved and annoyed to hear it. _

_Kym, where is the Toradol? _

_He knew why I was so uncomfortable. I turned over in my bed, clenched my jaw, and began a conversation that went something like this:_

_I'm fine._

_You're not. Where is the Toradol?_

_Really, I'm fine._

_Kimmie. (this one surprised me. He hadn't called me that in a very long time.) Please._

_The sheets stabbed my skin and the mattress clawed at my heels. For a small moment, I wished I hadn't invited him to stay at my mother's house with me while he was working at the Starfleet Medical Center on her case._

_We stared at each other. Through each other. I knew he wasn't going to let me suffer all night. My heart beat shook the bed, ever so slightly, enough so I knew I was still there. By the time I realized I was holding my breath, he had already come into the room and was standing near the foot of my bed in the darkenss of the wee hours of the morning. He stood quietly while my mind raced to find an excuse to avoid the question at hand. _

_No luck. I conceded. I sensed his concern for me and I liked it. I missed it. I suddenly craved his comfort after seventeen months of painfully missing him. I hated it. But I needed it. _

_I regretted the words the minute they flew out of my mouth. The medicine cabinet. I remember wondering if I had time to dash out of my bed, bolt down the stairs, and scurry into the bathroom to confiscate the medication and hide it before he got a chance to find it. Instead I lay in my bed, writhing as stinging tears welled in my eyes over the pain and the fact I conceded and over how much I missed him and how much I worried about my mom and how much I desperately wanted to sleep. _

_When he returned to my room, the vial of medication in one hand and a hypo spray in another, I stayed quiet. He sat gently on the edge of my bed the way my father used to do when I had a nightmare as a little girl. _

_Why are you in so much pain?_

_I remember thinking his question was a bit brash, in retrospect, considering he had only been in my house – my mother's house – for one day and he was already getting in my personal space and asking silly questions. _

_I sat up in bed feeling frustrated and exhausted. His concern touched me and I realized how much he still loved me. I thought about the day I left him back on the station, the look on his face, the hurt in his heart. Of course he put on a strong front, I admit I did too, but we both knew we had so much unfinished business hanging over our heads like a thick, wet fog. Regardless, we both ignored it. _

_I couldn't answer his question, even though I knew I was overly stressed, working too hard, not eating properly, and generally not taking very good care of myself. I'd also been skipping physical therapy to spend time with my mom, who at that time was still hospitalized at the Starfleet Medcal Center. But I couldn't tell him that. I knew he would be disappointed to hear it. So I just shrugged my shoulders and avoided, something I had a lot of practice doing. I sensed his disappointment anyway; he knew how much stress I was under and he simply put together the pieces. _

_I didn't argue with him as he leaned close and injected me with the drug. The immediate sensation of Toradol, in case you've never had it, is like spinning around in circles too long – you know you're standing in one spot, but your dizziness is forcing you to feel like you're moving. The spinning only lasts for a moment before the haze unfolds. The pain melted away and I slowly went blind as predicted– from the inside. _

_He sat on the edge of the bed for a few more minutes watching me for a few concrete signs of relief. When my body finally relaxed, I sensed his relief too. His elbows buried themselves in his knees, empty hypo spray still in his hands. What was he so melancholy about, other than being awake at 3 a.m? I never know what to say to someone in that state of mind. I mean, who does? Do you ask what is wrong, even when they don't know the answer? Do you stay still and quiet, waiting for them to start talking? Do you offer them something else to talk about?_

_I knew something was wrong with him that night. Something was different. I couldn't put my finger on it. _

_I offered my thanks for his help, even though I didn't want the help to begin with. He let out a small chuckle, not in a hurry to get back to his bed. Fortunately, before I could think about anything to say, he spoke up first._

_How many PT appointments have you skipped? _

_Figures he would ask something like that. Part of the reason I left was because I couldn't take his worry. I couldn't live with him constantly being on the worry end of, well, everything. He worried about the war starting back up, he worried about the station, and he constantly worried about my health. Constantly. I understand it's his job, but he could at least keep it to himself sometimes. His worrying was stressing me in a way I couldn't control. I loved him – I still do, I think – but I can't take the worry. _

_I'd skipped every single weekly appointment for the previous month, but I couldn't remember if it had been four appointments or three. I suddenly wished I hadn't missed any, but I'd been putting in fifty and sixty hour weeks, between that and spending with Mom, physical therapy seemed a bit unimportant._

_His eyes peered at me but I looked at my hands. I frantically searched my memory for the real number of appointments I missed. How many?! Three or four?! I looked toward the glass panes in the window looking for the answer. My head felt so light I almost couldn't tell it was attached to my body. _

_Four. Was it really four? I really wanted to tell him three, but I'm sure it was four. _

_Why did I skip those stupid appointments? _

_The flood gates suddenly opened. The Toradol acted as like a mysterious truth serum as I spilled my feelings out to him, telling about the stress, the work hours, everything. He listened to every single word intently, just like he always used to. Through my blabbering about the work on the weapons systems and my sleep deprivation, somehow, my emotions came to the surface and a few tears fell onto my lap. _

_I spent too long taking advantage of my mother's good health. I had just finished my training certification paperwork at Starfleet Academy when I got the message that Dad had been killed. It was the day of my graduation. Dad and I weren't close, but he was supposed to be there that day. He was supposed to see me fulfill my dream. Since that day ten years ago, I kept telling myself that Mom would never get hurt, never get sick, and never die. __I largely ignored the fact that my mother was a mortal, too. _I refused to believe I would be faced with the pain of losing a parent again.

_When she did get sick, I nearly shut down. I didn't know how to deal with the stress of an ill parent. I had already transferred to Betazed six months prior, luckily, so I was close when the emergency services called me. Mom had been living in the convent for the past year anyway, so she was never alone. At nearly 80 years old, she liked having the company, just in case. _

_I looked up at my worrisome house guest and waited for him to say anything. He remained quiet long after I had stopped my tirade and I wondered if he had been listening at all. I hate the awkwardness of waiting for someone to say something. _

_He spoke a few words, telling me that he was going to do everything he could for my mom, which was only mildly comforting. He told me he understood my stress. Assured me that it was going to get better. He played the comforting song and dance, but it went over my head. I don't know why I said it, but I did. See, I have this very ugly habit of saying things I don't think about first, and this was no exception._

_Will you... stay… with me?_

_Why did I do that? _

_He didn't say a word, but instead stood from the edge of the bed, made his way to the opposite side, and got under the covers. He held his arms open, which I crawled to and settled comfortably. I fell asleep in his arms immediately._

_That night still hangs over my head. It was only more than a month ago and I've thought about it every day since then. And now I'm holding new orders in my hand to go back there. I have to go back. I want to find out what's wrong. I think he's going to need help and I'm fearful that no one else will understand. _

_He doesn't know yet - no one does. I don't know how - or if - I'm going to tell him. I don't know if he even wants me to come back. Worst of all, I don't know if I still love him._

_And yet, I'm getting up in a minute to pack my bags to depart tomorrow afternoon. It seems so close now. _

_I still can't believe I'm doing this._


	5. Chapter 5

Gell Kamemor's thin, long legs hurried up the sidewalk just as the first drops of rain started to fall. _Click, clack. Click, clack._ The clopping from her boots muffled as she slowed her gait. The rainy season was nearly over in the Krocton Segment on Romulus and Praetor Kamemor knew the weather would be turning cold very soon.

Eager to get her evening started, she quickly typed in a security code on the panel and accessed the door's control lock of the enormous home she shared with her wife and son. Her security detail stood on the porch until she disappeared into the building, then they dispersed. Kamemor enjoyed their company usually, but today they just slowed her down.

"Ravent! Sorilk! I'm home!"

Her jubilant voice echoed up the stairs and off the domed ceiling above her head. The Praetor took off her long gray rain cloak and shook out the remaining few raindrops. As she reached up to hang the cloak on the hook by the door, she realized how quiet the house was.

"Ravent?"

Silently and slowly, she made her way out of the guilded foyer and down the long front hallway. The house felt warm and inviting, with deep red walls and light gold curitans in practically every room. As she moved past various rooms, she peered inside each one, keeping an ear open for her family. Past the stairs, past the first floor restroom, past the parlor.

"Sorilk?"

Something was wrong. The nervousness built in her body and started to do flips in her stomach. Amid her curiosity, she entered the brightly kit kitchen, which was neatly organized with a sharp round table in the center of the gray floor. She meandered all throughout the rest of the silent house until she stopped in the upstairs hallway. On the wall hung a photo of the family - Gell, Ravent, and Sorilk. Her son looked to be about in his thirties in the picture, Ravent had gray hair, and she herself had wrinkles. She quickly pulled the picture off the gray wall and held it close to her face. Her reflection appeared similar to her own image. She tilted the picture to get a better look and realized she really did have wrinkles after all. She returned the picture carefully returned the picture to the wall hanger as her heart rate picked up.

"What is this?" Her nervous whisper to herself boomed through the air as she reached up with perfectly manicured fingers and gently touched her son's face, behind the protective glass and frame. _Impossible_ she thought. _My boy is only seven.._.

Terrifying confusion overcame her mind. Praetor Kamemor slowly made her way down the dark hallway, touching each of the frames until she reached a photo without her son in it. Where was he? She noticed he didn't appear in any photos after that.

The distraught Romulan turned slowly and walked back to the kitchen, bewildered and sad. Her memory had been failing for the better part of a year now, since she was appointed Praetor of the Romulan Senate. At first, her doctor told her it was stress-related, and that when she was more comfortable in her new position, it would get better. If anything, the confusion had gotten worse.

She lowered herself into a kitchen chair and stared at the shiny, black tabletop. She slowly realized she was in the present. Her son had been dead for about thirteen years, her wife had been gone for two. A feeling of uneasiness washed over her body, erasing any lingering hunger in her stomach. She was alone. And broken.

The stinging in her eyes was a welcome sensation. Her emotions brought her back to a painful reality without her son and wife. How did I even get here? she wondered through her tears. How could this happen?

She let her mind wander back to the meeting she just left. She wondered what it would take to disable the Defiant, then disable the station. She knew the operation would have to be covert and couldn't be traced back to the Typhon Pact.

_Why am I protecting the Pact? _Her mind started to wander_. _

When the Pact formed shortly after the Borg invasion at Typhon 1, Federation President Nanietta Bacco tried to force the Romulan Emprie to join into their collation to try to stop the Borg. The Romulans wished to remain neutral - as was the normal corse of action when a conflict broke out - but Bacco was displeased with that arrangement. The more she persisted, the more the Romulan Senate pushed her away. The Senate somehow became convinced Bacco was trying to prevent the Romulans from reaching their own conclusion for the Borg conflict, and therefore decided to form their own alliance. The Typhon Pact was born through the covert bond between six interstellar states who all wanted a solution to the Borg problem but wanted to be free from the Federation and it's President.

When the Borg were finally defeated, the Typhon Pact briefly disbanded. When Praetor Tal'Aura, the predecessor of Kamemor, discovered the slip stream technology was not owned by the Federation or any states other than the Borg, she collected the Pact members back together. Knowing how much power the slipstream drive had offered the Borg, the Praetor of the Romulan Senate convinced the High Command that the Romulan Empire could rise again, bring the primary power of the quadrant, if they held the sacred slipstream drive in their own hands.

When the Federation discovered the plan of the Typhon Pact, they launched a full scale anti-pact plan. Part of the plan was to stop the Typhon Pact from developing slipstream drive. Part of the plan was for the Federation to develop it first.

This stale-mate had been enduring for nearly three years and Kamemor wanted to see it end. She wanted slipstream drive for the Romulans so badly, she would likely do anything to get it.

Kamemor once hated the Federation, as most Romulans did. She thought they were power hungry and arrogant. During the Dominion war, she saw the lengths the Federation was willing to go for an ally and she thought it was noble. Now that the Federation was working against the Romulans again, Kamemor felt the sting of distrust again for them, but she had a hard time forgetting what the Federation did for the Romulans during the war.

She had visited Deep Space Nine once. It smelled vile and was poorly designed. When the Praetor discovered it had been designed and built by Cardassians, she downright hated the station. Once Starfleet moved in, the sector seemed to lighten up a bit about the station's presence. Starfleet didn't pose much threat at the time and when the Dominion War started, they became allies.

_Now_, Kamemor thought, _they are a threat of unknown proportions._ She knew the Pact had to get together slipstream drive first. The Romulans had endured too much oppression and set back over the past century. It was time for the Romulans and their allies to rise to the top and control something significant.

Kamemor wanted to use the opportunity for herself to rise again, too. She needed a new start. No one knew she was having memory problems. No one knew of the several times a day she believed her wife and son were still here with her. And no one would know.

The Praetor stood so quickly, her chair toppled over and bounced off the tiled floor. She practically stormed to her comm panel, wiped her eyes with her sleeve, and placed a call to her assistant. When his face appeared on the screen, the Praetor commanded with a voice that was louder than she anticipated:

"Get me someone who knows the engine schematics of the Starfleet battleship _USS Defiant_."

**Gell Kamemor and I have gotten to know each other pretty well over the past few chapters. I don't know much about the Romulans and until recently, I've never met one. Want her character to go a certain way? Think she's too mean or nice? Leave me a comment and let's have a Romulan conversation! **


	6. Chapter 6

Steady hands worked quietly as the late night hours descended upon Doctor Bashir's laboratory. The promenade had long cleared of dinnertime patrons and the only audible sounds of the evening drifted out of Quark's bar across the corridor. Lights around him slowly dimmed and the doctor figured by now, the transport he was waiting for couldn't be more than an hour away, at most.

"Computer, time."

His was careful to keep his voice quiet; a young patient in Intensive Care needed to rest. It had been a long day and he was eager to be out of this place, but didn't quite know how else he would pass the time.

"_The time is twenty two hundred, thirty four hours_."

_Twenty two thirty four!?_ The doctor's heart leaped in his chest when he realized it was later - much later - than he originally anticipated. Scrambling to stop the analysis he just started, he wondered how he let time get so far away from him. Once the final analysis finally stopped, he hurried into the office suite of the infirmary.

"Semna, I'm out of here. Have a good night."

Dr. Girani Semna looked up from her PADD and smiled at Bashir. "I will. You do the same. Good luck!"

Bashir grinned and quickly headed for the door. The transport was scheduled to arrive at twenty two forty five and he knew it would take him about eight minutes to walk from the infirmary to the docking ring. He certainly didn't want to be late. Not for this meeting.

Two minutes into the eight minute walk, Bashir noticed Captain Ro Laren walking several paces in front of him. He called to her, hurried his gait into a jog, and caught up to her side.

"Mind if I walk with you?"

The captain's Bajoran eyes looked tired, Bashir noticed. She must have had a long day, too. Although she seemed exhausted, the doctor could tell she was excited as well. "Not at all. You're out late tonight."

Bashir nodded. He tried to remember the last time he was out at this hour and he couldn't. For the past several months, he finished his work in the infirmary and immediately retreated to his quarters until morning. He had no desire to see or socialize with anyone, which was abnormal behavior for him. He had hoped no one had noticed.

"Yes, sir. I wanted to catch the transport from Betazed before I retired for the evening."

They walked in silence for a few moments. Bashir's anxiety mounted when he realized they would be late to the loading dock. The captain's pace was much slower than his normal speed and he hadn't factored meeting her in his calculation of how long it would take him to walk from the infirmary to the docking ring.

After what seemed like forever, they finally made it to docking port seven. The large, maroon cog was still firmly closed and appeared quiet.

"Are they here yet?" Bashir suddenly felt another pang of worry welling in his throat.

"They should be docking right now," the captain replied. Ro noticed the doctor's usual high-strung personality hadn't faltered a bit with the lateness of the day. She giggled to herself at his eagerness.

An audible "clooong" followed by hissing decompression sounds filled the doctor's ears, causing his heart to leap into his throat again. She's finally here. The year and a half dragged on for millennia after she left. And now she was home. Bashir relished the moment, taking it all in and savoring it.

He always wanted to experience the kind of reunion when a lost love got off a transport and dropped their bags right away, in the middle of the corridor, and ran to him. He imagined the kind of passionate reunion when he scooped his lover up off her feet and kissed her passionately in front of hundreds of bystanders in the loading dock. The kind of reunion a soldier receives after he gets back from the war.

He knew this reunion wouldn't be quite as dramatic, but he knew it was okay to keep dreaming.

About twenty people, all looking equally exhausted as Captain Ro, slowly got off the ship, each one filing into the corridor and turning left to head toward the habitat ring. Betazed ran it's own environmental and time keeping, making Federation time twelve hours ahead of Betazed time. The jet lag from such a trip was heavy.

Finally he saw her. She carried a tan bag over her shoulder and walked slowly. Her gait was slightly uneven, which was normal for her, with her left leg moving only slightly faster than the right. Bashir was sure no one else noticed except for him, so he never made mention of it to her.

She regarded the Captain first, dropping her bag and standing at full attention, her officer's dress uniform's buttons sparkling in the ambient light of the docking ring. She held out a PADD for the Captain as she spoke.

"Commander Kymberli Rzepka, reporting for duty, Captain. Permission to come aboard?"

"Granted, at ease," the captain replied quickly. She looked over the orders on the PADD and downloaded them to her crew files. Then she handed the PADD to the doctor for him to download her medical file. The captain looked back to the Commander. "Welcome aboard, Commander. It's good to have you back."

Commander Rzepka's face, although appearing tired and worn, showed a half-genuine smile. "Thank you, Captain."

After Captain Ro politely excused herself, Rzepka turned her attention to Bashir. Their eyes locked and for the first time in months - eighteen to be exact - Bashir felt whole. His heart lept again as she reached out to him for an embrace. He held her close as if he'd been waiting his whole life for it. He never wanted to let her go again.

"My god, I've missed you."

His words were the deepest truth he'd probably ever muttered. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, taking in the moment and falling back in love with her in an instant.

"I know you have," Rzepka replied softly. "I've missed you too."

Bashir finally released the embrace, concentrating on her face before reaching down for her bag. Putting the strap over his shoulder, he smiled at her again. "May I walk you to your quarters?"

They walked slowly, much slower than the walk to arrive at the airlock. The doctor amused himself with how he knew her so well - like how she couldn't sleep on a starship or how she loved fresh hasperat but hated replicated. He made a mental note to ask her out to dinner at the Bajoran restaurant very soon.

When they reached the door of her quarters, she entered the security code and the Cardassian-designed doors slid open. They both stepped over the threshold into the dimly lit living room. Bashir placed the bag on the sofa and turned toward her to say goodnight.

"I'm glad you're here," he started. "And by glad, I mean thrilled."

Rzepka smiled brightly through her exhaustion and looked shyly away, sensing his genuine happiness. She liked it. "I know you are," she replied, blinking and thinking. "I hope with time, I'll feel the same. But I _am_ happy to see you, so that helps."

Her words stung Bashir's heart. He knew she wasn't happy on the station before, but he desperate hoped that would change. He nodded at her statement and let it go. "Will you be at the staff meeting tomorrow morning?"

Rzepka nodded slowly. "With any luck, if I can get some sleep."

Bashir reached out and placed a hand on each of her shoulders. He gently kissed each of her cheeks- the way his father used to kiss his mother when they were young - and backed away toward the door. "I will see you in the morning, then. Good night, Kym."

"Good night, Julian."


	7. Chapter 7

The atmosphere on a Cardassian Space Station is very dry, heavy, and usually very hot. Despite Starfleet's best efforts, the environmental system aboard Deep Space Nine couldn't purify the air to exact human comfort standards. Although the temperature was manageable, the humidity was very low and the nitrogen concentration in the air was five percent above what a human - and a Betazoid - is most comfortable breathing.

Having been in the tropical climate of Betazed for the previous year and a half, Commander Rzepka had a hard time breathing when she boarded Deep Space Nine. When she awoke the morning after her arrival, she was downright _sick_.

When she finally yanked her body out of her bed at 0600, her cough had gotten so loud she was afraid of waking the neighbors. The transition period between such environments took as about two weeks and she grew impatient just thinking about it. A real shower helped loosen her cough a bit and she wondered how she could increase her water ration until her transition period was over. Sonic showers were just not as comforting.

By 0645, she was ready and out the door, heading to the staff meeting. _It's been a while since I've been to one of these,_ she thought to herself. Since participating in the Weapons Revision and Reutilization program on Betazed, and having served in Starfleet Intelligence for two years prior to that, it had been a while since she was in a position of seniority. She wondered what the crew was like after all that time. She would be working closely with Lieutenant Nog, whom she had known for many years, but she was oveseeing engine operations on _Defiant_, too. While Nog was doing a good job of keeping the station and starship running smoothly, Starfleet had requested a senior-level individual to assume chief engineering responsibilities.

Most of the senior staff had already sleepily gathered in the ward room when Commander Rzepka arrived. A sub-conscious chorus of "_Hey, it's Rzepka_!" and "_I didn't know she was aboard alrea__dy_" met her consciousness, but no one actually spoke except for Captain Ro. She was standing by the replicator when she noticed Rzepka's presence.

"Good morning, Commander. Raktijino?"

Rzepka hated Raktijino. It was too bitter and she disliked the aftertaste it left in her mouth. She shook her head before approaching and answering the captain with a raspy and hoarse voice.

"No thank you, Captain. I never did like the stuff. Regular coffee will do, though."

The captain ordered the commander's coffee and handed it over. "Sleep well last night?"

Rzepka nodded, holding the coffee to her nose. "Thankfully."

The commander took her seat next to a Bajoran man she'd never met. He was handsome - lean with dark hair and eyes. He was dressed in a red Bajoran Milita uniform. He looked up at her and smiled, holding his hand out in greeting.

"Colonial Cenn Desca, Executive Officer. Nice to meet you."

The Colonial's words stabbed Rzepka squarely in the gut. Executive officer - The position that Elias Vaughn held the last time she saw him. She briefly thought back to the last time she saw Vaughn, the day before she left for Betazed. She was so angry that day. Rzepka had a lot of history with Vaughn and now he was in a coma. They had reconciled their differences over subspace during the time Rzepka was on Betazed. Vaughn even told her he wanted to come see the planet before she left. Just like her father, Vaughn never made good on his word before the accident stole him away.

Still, she wished she could get that last day back and tell him how much she admired and respected him. And more than anything, she wanted to thank him for everything he had taught her.

"Commander Kymberli Rzepka," she replied, taking his handshake offer. "I'm the new Chief Engineer. Actually, I was the old Chief Engineer several years ago before I left on another assignment and now I'm back."

Her voice was so crackly and raspy, Cenn backed his chair away an inch or two. His eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Do you have a cold?"

"No, no," Rzepka quickly defended, clearing her throat and brushing a lock of brown hair from her face. "It's the transition. I'm coming off duty on Betazed."

"Oooohhh... beautiful planet."

"Yes, it is."

The meeting continued without as much as a hiccup, concluding with Captain Ro announcing a Captain's Dinner for the senior staff at the end of the week. She would be treating the senior staff to dinner and drinks in her quarters. Rzepka thought it was well-timed; it offered her an opportunity to re-acquaint with the staff and meet those she didn't know.

She just hoped she had a voice by then.

* * *

"Doctor Bashir. How are you this afternoon?"

Counselor West smiled at the doctor as they both took seats in West's office. Bashir tried to get his contempt for the counselor under control, but the persistance of his disdain was unwavering.

"Peachy. You?"

West kept smiling. "Doing quite well, thank you. How many of those programs did you try last week?"

Bashir sat back in his green chair and grinned again. He reached into the pocket of his uniform pants and pulled out three unused holosuite programs. "None. I didn't have time."

"Julian, you and I both know that I can't help you if you won't meet me halfway," West explained, letting some of his own contempt surface. "I still don't understand what you're expecting out of these sessions. It's been five weeks. I don't feel like we've made any progress. What do you think?"

Bashir looked down at his hands, suddenly feeling a slight pang of guilt in his gut. The counselor was right. Bashir was the non-compliant patient and expecting results. _Why am I even doing this?_ he wondered to himself. _Just tell him what's really on your mind. _

"You know what, Counselor? You're absolutely right. I can't expect results without pushing for them. So, if it would be alright with you, I would like to just talk about all of the things on my mind and see where that goes. Do you think that will be acceptable?"

Bashir was partly mocking the counselor, partly being serious. He wanted to talk with someone about Rzepka returning, he just didn't know who.

West nodded enthusiastically. He seemed so young to Bashir, but he was sure what they talked about would be in confidence. "Please, continue."

"She accepted a permanent assignment on Defiant and now she's here. I've been in contact with her and I know... I know _she's_ the reason why I've been so miserable over the past eighteen months. I'm... I'm lost without her." Bashir couldn't believe what was coming out of his mouth. West just sat and nodded, as if he actually understood. Bashir wondered if he was even old enough to drink, let alone know how a serious relationship worked.

"When she left, I felt isolated in my own skin. I didn't want to be around anyone else. I started to fall into a depression, which scared me a bit. I've seen depressed patients and it's not a place I want to be. I think that could be the cause of my anxiety, because I'm afraid of the way I feel. I didn't want to be so hung up on her and believe me, I've tried to get over it. But then she called me to come help with her mother and I had to go. Something told me I had to go to Betazed and help. So I did. I fell in love with her all over again when I was there and that's when I knew. I know I need her and I'm not sure where I want that to go. And quite frankly..." Bashir paused to take a few deep breaths. "That scares the hell out of me."

West smiled. "Now we're onto something here. How did you feel when you found out she was coming back?"

Bashir thought back to the previous week when she called to tell him. "It was like a huge weight had been lifted off my chest. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I felt... relieved."

"Relieved?" West pressed. "How so?"

"I'm not sure," Bashir replied, shifting his weight in his chair and crossing his legs. He was starting to feel better already. "I think I was relieved that I wouldn't have to be alone any more. Maybe that tiny prospect that she and I could start over."

_Start over. _ The doctor was desperate to start over so he could start to feel like himself again. He just needed to find himself and remember what that felt like. He vowed to himself that afternoon he would find that old Julian again. He refused to continue like he had been. He wanted to be... better.


	8. Chapter 8

_"Start with Defiant."_

The Praetor's sharp and sudden voice interrupted the heated argument between the Tzenkethi and Breen ambassadors. She'd had enough of their bantering. They both quieted down and sat back in their chairs. The tension in the air still hung heavy like an early morning fog, but the Praetor pushed it aside.

"Madam Praetor. With all due respect... what do you mean _'Start with Defiant'_?"

The Tzenkethi representative, Prell, spoke first, daring to challenge the statement of the Romulan Praetor. Her shimmering brown eyes contrasted sharply with the dull wrinkles surrounding them as they narrowed in disapproval.

"_Defiant_. I have someone who will help one of you target its plasma inductor. He's on the inside. The current operational maneuver plan is to disable the ship, prevent a new engine from being installed, and buy a diversion in order disable the station. I hear they have a new engineer, so that provides even more diversion. We can keep Starfleet busy and off guard trying to figure out what happened for at least a week." Kamemor got up from her chair, foldedher hands behind her back, and paced up and down the wall. She raised her voice and flexed her power over the men around the table. "Maneuver warfare, gentlemen. Please tell me one of you have heard of it."

Cross-eyed looks met her own eyes from around the room. All of the representatives were quiet except Peq'Nor, the Kinshaya Ambassador, who stood out of his chair and cleared his throat.

"I will assist in this operation."

Kamemor looked up at the ambassador, waiting for him to say more. Her mind wandered to how she was going to explain this to her wife when she asked how work was today. _Oh nothing, darling. Just planned to attack the Federation. No big deal..._

_Wait_, she thought to heserlf. _She isn't here anymore. Get it together, Gell... _Her anger at herself and her inconsistent memory grew and she had no choice but project it onto Starfleet. _H_ow _dare they try to stop us from reaching the Gamma quadrant. How dare they guard the wormhole so closely. We have a right to be "explorers," too. _

"... and I have a few contacts on Andor. They will be willing to help."

Kamemor pushed herself back into the conversation. The booming voice of Prell exploded in her brain, forcing her to concentrate on the ideas he was throwing out at her.

The plan was to get the insider - the mysterious person the Praetor knew who was willing to help - to rig the engine on the _Defiant_ completely inoperable. The only available engine was on Starbase 127, which the Pact planned to surround and prevent the incoming traffic to get the new core to place inside _Defiant_. They just needd a few weeks to plan out the attack on Deep Space Nine. _Defiant_ wouln't be in a position to chase after any ships through the wormhole; the station would be completely disabled.

Now, if they could just get a plan to disable the station, That, however, was another meeting.

"The anti-matter chamber is easily accessible through the aft deuterium port. Our insider plans to re-route the deuterium injector to the matter/anti-matter condenser, causing a small implosion. The reaction will cause the entire engine to seize in just a few moments, but shouldn't explode or kill anyone. Pretty smart idea, if I do say so myself," Praetor Kamemor said, passing the PADD in her hand to Prell. He looked over it and nodded before passing it around the table.

"What does our contact need?" Prell seemed interested as he spoke, encouraging Kamemor to relax a little and trust her unattractive colleage.

"Time," replied Kamemor. "and opportunity. And assurnace of a new core being unavilable. That's where you come in, Ambassador."

"When will the endeavour take place?" asked Prell. He sat back in his chair with a smug grin on his face.

"By the end of the week," Kamemor explained. "Now, we've solidified _Defiant_. I expect one of you to solidify the plan for the station. We can't waste any more time. We need to move. Now."

"With _Defiant_ disabled, we can easily move in and attack the station," The Tholian Ambassador, Krull, suggested. "Go in under cloak, fire on the central core, and get out of there."

"What did I explain earlier? No one dies. No blood. Firing on the station is out of the question." Kamemor was becoming agitated at the blatant disregard for her own words. Krull had been pressing her buttons for the past several weeks and she woudl just rather dismiss him from the panel. "Other ideas."

"Can't your 'insider' work the station as well? What good is having an insider who can't work on the inside?" Krull shot back.

"He comes at a price," Kamemor said dryly, staring hard into the Tholian's white, glowing eyes. She quickly wondered to herlself how she ended up in a room with so many argumentative men. "I need other _good_ ideas. If you have none, keep quiet."

_Ravent dislikes the Federaton. She always talks about how they don't have good enough security inside their own organization, that their intelligence community always has one or two spies performng some kind of inside job. __ She even comments on the now-defunct Maquis, an organization of rogue Federation citizens who spent their entire existence fighting the Federation's laws. Disruption is common within the Federation and Ravent always talks about it. _Thank goodness for her teachings, but I can't tell her about it. Not yet. 

_Stop it, Gell_, the praetor frantically paused her thoughts. _Think about what YOU need to do. Not about her. She's gone. She's been gone. _

"I think we should to go back to our explosion idea. Disable the fusion core by disrupting the flow capacitors," the Breen representative, whose name was Retteplor, explained. "I can get my hands on the stations schematics from the high Council, but I remember much about the fusion core from my studies on the Federation."

The plan formulated - right there around the shiny round table in the huge gray conference room in the Romulan Captiol. The Breen Government still had schematics of the station from the war. Kamemor didn't care why they still had them, she only worried about if they would be able to disable the station with the information.

Once Retteplor received the transmission of the plans for Deep Space Nine, the plan formulated. The men discovered the fusion core aboard the station was divided into seven sections. The plan was to get a small bomb on each section to disable the plasma injectors, Without the injectors, the fusion reactors had no fuel to run. Once all of the reactors had no fuel, the station would quickly shut down and emergency power would eventually fade. Nothing would be operational - not even sensors or life support - after about thirty minutes. Repairing that kind of damage to an obsolete station would be nearly impossible and reparing the damage to Defiant - almost equally obsolete - would also be very difficult. The Fededration presence around the wormhole would be very occupied with the problems at hand and would have their guard officially down.

The representaives, one by one, started nodding as the plan unfolded around the table. They all liked the idea of getting into the Gamma quadrant and finding what they were looking for. They all knew they would have an equal hand in making history for the Typhon Pact and for their peoples. Their children would be able to grow up in the safety of the Pact's protection. With quantum slipstream drive, they would be the most powerful force in the galaxy and would never have to face devestation such as the wake of the Borg attacks.

They were very excited, as was the Praetor.


	9. Chapter 9

Once the Dominion War stories started flying around the room, Commander Rzepka quietly excused herself from the Captain's Dinner, promising Captain Ro she would meet her for drinks another time. She decided to head down to _Defiant's_ engine room and run a few diagnostics to get a head start on work for tomorrow. She didn't enjoy war stories, especially those from drunken officers, and something was nagging her to get to the engine room. When she gets the nagging feeling, she doesn't ignore it.

Walking from the captain's quarters to the turbolift, she wondered why _Defiant_ wasn't retrofitted for a new plasma induction drive. The warship was one of the last in the fleet to be running an old warp core – one that was quickly failing, at that. Starfleet Corps of Engineers had been very busy rebuilding critical stations after the Borg Invasion and had put Deep Space Nine, and _Defiant_, on the back burner for over a year.

One thing was sure: she couldn't keep spending days on end repairing the core only having it break down again a few days later.

The doors slid open and Rzepka ambled into the airlock, through to the _Defiant's_ loading dock. From there, she walked slowly, still in thought, to Engineering. The quiet of the late hour surrounded her, allowing her to relax a bit and concentrate on doing what she did best - solving problems. She giggled at herself when the next thought flew into her head: _Maybe I'll just get lucky and the damn thing will blow up. After we eject it, of course._

She put her long brown hair up in a messy ponytail and quietly got to work. Soon her fingers danced over the panels, engaging coolant diagnostics and induction scans. Her personal mission included finding a problem that couldn't be fixed, then use that problem as a launch pad to get rid of the engine. Two other engineers were also in the Engine room, working on various different projects. She sensed their presence but let them continue their work without interruption.

_In a flash, Commander Rzepka was no longer standing at the control panel. She looked around, confused, wondering what she was doing. She was overlooking the warp core from above – everything in the room was hazy and she couldn't focus her vision on any one thing. _

_Two engineers walked by, talking. They seemed oblivious to the warp core's sudden alarm, letting them know an unsafe temperature inside the core was building. Rzepka tried to scream, but nothing came out of her mouth. Suddenly, a transcoupler blew and shook the ship. The bulkhead started pouring anti-matter and Theta Radiation into the engine room, rendering the two engineers dead. _

_The commander couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Just as she thought she was going to faint, she felt the panel under her fingers..._

A sudden gasp found her lungs as her head jerked up from the panel. Engineering was quiet and dim. Her confusion led to panic as she ran to the warp core's main control. After checking a few status updates, her sigh of relief escaped. Everything was fine. Temperature was fine. Transcoupler was fine. No one else in sight.

_Did I hallucinate?_ She wondered. _Did I have a... premonition?_ Amid her thoughts, one of the engineers, a lieutenant, interrupted her.

"Commander, if you have a moment, we could use a hand over here," he quietly asked. Rzepka looked up from her perch beside the warp core and smiled, snapping herself back to reality. She brushed off her uneasy feeling and got back to work.

"Of course," she replied, following the lieutenant to the anti-matter containment room. They worked on resetting all of the induction rings and the forward thruster controls, all routine maintenance, until Rzepka found herself rubbing her eyes. After checking the time, she realized it was already 2300 hours, well past her bedtime.

She stood and stretched, thinking about the events scheduled for tomorrow. Security briefings, meetings, and she was already too tired for any of it.

Before she had a chance to dismiss the two engineers, ordering them to get some sleep as well, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. _Weird_, she thought. _Why would anyone else be working down here at this hour? _

Exploring around the corner of the anti-matter chamber, she sensed a young security officer whom she didn't recognize, walking around the warp core chamber. _He must be on a patrol_, the commander thought to herself. _It's too late for us to be in here._

_Crack_. The audible sound made Rzepka spin on her heel. _What was that?_ Any "cracking" sound she heard made her jumpy. It usually meant trouble.

_Crack crack._

"That sounds like cracking glass," she squeakily muttered to no one in particular. _Where did it come from?_

The sound got louder._ Crackle craaaackle..._ _Shit_, she thought. _What is going on!?_ She shouted for the two engineers, but they couldn't hear her. As she started to make her way to the anti-matter chamber, a loud alarm caught her ear.

Critical temperature.

_OH shit_, she thought, knowing they were out of time already.

The explosion blinded her. Her body hit the floor with a thud, but she pulled herself up again quickly.

"GET OUT! EVERYBODY, GET OUT OF HERE!" Her voice crackled frantically, barely audible over the alarms and the hissing exhaust flooding the room. The big red button under her smacking hand began the evacuation siren, overcoming her small voice. She coughed hard as she inhaled the exhaust from the manifold and scrambled to the emergency containment control to activate the emergency doors. The two engineers ran for the doors, but there was no sign of the security officer Rzepka had seen earlier.

"Where is the guard?!" Rzepka yelled as loud as she could at the engineers. One of them shook his head, the other ran to a panel to scan the interior of the engine room.

"No sign of anyone else in there, sir!" he yelled back.

Rzepka looked into the engine room again, which was filling with plasma exhaust and radiation. She had no choice but to engage the containment door. She hurried to scramble under the closing door, then ran to the engine control on the far wall.

"We need to shut it down!"

As she worked, she noticed one of her engineers sitting on the floor in obvious pain. She quickly called for a medical team and kept working. She and the remaining engineer successfully shut the core down and the entire engine room went dark, vice the emergency lights.

"What the hell just happened, Lieutenant?"

The commander's scratchy and congested voice was even more hoarse as the adrenaline filled her body. All of it just ended up making her sound more ridiculous.

"I don't know, sir. When I engaged the anti-matter pathway, a capsule overloaded, causing a chain reaction among the others. I've never seen anything like it." The senior engineer replied, still breathless from the scramble. Rzepka approached another control panel and pulled up the quantum schematics for the past hour. As she breezed through the calculations, the medical team arrived to care for the injured engineer.

_Looks like my wish came true_, she thought, smacking her hand down on the console in anger. _Defiant's_ _core finally gave out_. _Fantastic. The captain's going to LOVE this..._


	10. Chapter 10

The security camera clearly showed the security officer conducting a routine security sweep. He was tall with light hair, lanky, and held a tricorder in his hand.

"I didn't authorize a walk through last night," Rzepka reported, taking another sip of her coffee. Her back was sore from being thrown around the previous night and her voice still sounded like a cross between a very sick mouse and an old motorcycle engine. It was early - 0530 - and she'd only slept for three hours the night before. Most of the senior officers were slightly hungover. The meeting was a rather interesting sight.

Captain Ro, Doctor Bashir, Lieutenant Commander Jefferson Blackmer, and Lieutenant Nog sat around the Wardroom table. Commander Rzepka didn't know Blackmer very well – he was the new Security Chief aboard the station. He sat very still while he concentrated and his thoughts were jumbled – almost as if he were thinking in several different directions. He was a human with dark skin and broad shoulders.

Rzepka peered at the chief of security, feeling his embarrassment on having no information to offer, especially when he felt everyone's eyes on him.

"I c- can't report on this situation. I did not see anyone s- sign out to patrol _Defiant_ last night. I don't know why he was there," Blackmer didn't look up from his hands as he spoke. Rzepka grew curious about his stutter. Why was he so nervous?

"Do you even know who he was?" Captain Ro's patience with the situation was waning. She wanted answers.

"No, I'm afraid I don't. I need a b- better look at his face, but I don't recognize him at all."

"Commander, what did you sense from him? Anything?" The captain's attention turned back to Commander Rzepka.

Rzepka shook her head, then her mouse-voice erupted again. "I sensed his presence. He was too far away from me to sense anything else."

"This is outstanding. We have a dead warp core, an unidentified security guard, and a whole lot of explaining to do to Starfleet Command," Ro's frustration was apparent but she tried to contain herself. "Doctor, can we still pick up traces of DNA in the engine room?"

"It's possible. It depends on how quickly the core was shut down after the plasma leak started," Bashir responded. His head hurt and he wished he hadn't had that last martini before he left the captain's dinner last night.

"Get down there and start scanning then. We need to pick up some kind of evidence on this guy. I'm putting the station on yellow alert pending possible security breech. Rzepka, go with the doctor and comb the engine room again. We need something. I don't care how small."

The meeting adjourned and Commander met the Doctor at the door. "I'll meet you in the engine room in ten minutes?"

Bashir nodded, then turned the opposite direction to the infirmary. He was concerned with the DNA degradation in the engine room. He should have told the captain the chance for recovery of DNA was very slim. Now the captain had expectations he didn't know he could fulfill.

During the swift walk to the infirmary, he worried about Commander Rzepka's health. She sounded terrible and Bashir could tell she hadn't been sleeping well. She was a bit pale but appeared to be concentrating well and functioning normally. Her breathing was slightly labored, but not too badly. Bashir knew the transition period was uncomfortable – he remembered when he went through it the first few weeks he was on the station. He didn't think it was _that_ bad and he certainly didn't think the commander should have been feeling as miserable as she was.

After packing his DNA scanner, he grabbed a medical tricorder.

_Keep it cool, Bashir,_ he thought to himself. _Your worry drove her away the first time. Don't let it happen again. _

In the predicted ten minutes, Bashir approached the engine room. The lights were out except the emergency back ups. He knew Commander Rzepka was behind the dark warp core when he heard her echoing hacking. He winced at the sound – it sounded like she had more than transition congestion.

"Commander Rzepka?"

He called to her even though he figured she already knew he was there. She rounded the back of the warp core with a flashlight in her hand. "He was here. He was right here."

Bashir quickly dropped his kit and pulled out the DNA scanner. He approached the commander's position and started scanning the area.

"Did you see him touch anything other than the floor? Perhaps he brushed up against something?"

Rzepka shook her head. "I only saw him for a second. In the surveillance video, he was very close to this console, but I don't think he touched it."

"Can we get some lights in here?"

"Lights?" started Rzepka, letting a small, playful smile overcome her face. "Are you afraid to be in the dark with me?" Doctor Bashir looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. _ Is she... flirting with me?_ He grinned back, partially wanting to continue the playful banter, but instead decided to let it go. For now.

"How about a flashlight then?"

Rzepka handed him her flashlight, then retreated to a console on the opposite of the engine room. She pulled up the surveillance video and watched it again as Bashir scanned.

Within a few moments, Bashir approached the commander's position. "I have something here."

"You do?" The commander looked up at him with curiosity. "Anything good?"

Bashir nodded. "I found some unidentified DNA on the edge of a panel cover in the left corner. It was shielded from the radiation by the containment field. It appears he... sneezed."

"Gross. But Ro will be pleased."

The doctor returned to his kit and placed the scanner back inside. He grabbed his tricorder and walked back to the commander slowly.

"Kym?"

"Yes?"

_Take it slow, Bashir_. "I'm a bit concerned with your cough."

Rzepka drew a small sigh – it was all she could muster – and nodded. " I know you are. I was going to see Doctor Girani this afternoon."

"So you mind if I take a quick look now?"

The exhausted engineer shook her head. She was too tired to argue with him, so she sat in a chair at a nearby console station. The doctor opened his tricorder and started scanning.

"Take a deep breath."

She did as he asked, hacking and nearly doubling over when her lungs couldn't take the expansion. The pain of the cough stung the inside of her trachea. Bashir's heart pumped faster as he felt his nervousness mounting inside his chest.

"You have a fever... and your lungs are severely congested. Kym... I think you may have pneumonia."

Rzepka rolled her eyes. "Are you serious?"

Bashir nodded as he closed the tricorder. "Afraid so. Come on."

They walked together quietly back to the station and into the promenade. It was very crowded – lunchtime wasn't too far away. When they entered the infirmary together, Bashir's medical assistant, Krissten Richter, greeted them.

"Did you find anything substantial?"

Bashir smiled at her. "Luckily, we did! Krissten, while I run this DNA, can you take the commander to Exam 1 and get her on two liters of O2? Start a microcellular scan as well. I'll be right there."

As soon as Krissten put the mask over Commander Rzepka's face, she instantly felt better. She leaned her head back against the exam table and closed her eyes. The dizziness she'd been feeling all morning started to go away and she felt her body relax. Krissten opened her tricorder to scan the commander.

"I'm sorry you're feeling so sick, Commander. I remember having a hard time when I came aboard, too. We're going to have you feeling better in no time."

Her voice was soft and comforting. Rzepka opened her eyes and smiled at the helpful assistant as she scanned. "Thank you," she replied. "I'm feeling better already."


	11. Chapter 11

Julian Bashir stared at the screen in front of him, waiting for the computer's analysis to finish on the unidentified DNA. He was late for this morning's counseling session, but he didn't care about that much. He obviously had more important things to concentrate on.

The pulsing headache behind his left eye had eased into a dull throb. Still regretting that last martini last night, he stood from his chair and stretched his arms above his head. In the distance across the infirmary, he heard Commander Rzepka's hacking cough and winced. He knew she would be fine - the bacteria in her lungs was already responding to the antibiotics he started her on - he still hated to hear her cough. It sounded very uncomfortable.

On graceful legs, he turned toward the replicator and ambled slowly, stretching out his legs and back. It was only 0930 and he was already looking forward to the end of the day.

"Raktijino, hot, extra cream..." he said into the replicator as another raspy, barking cough erupted from inside the infirmary. "... And one Tarkaliean tea. Hot."

Two mugs emerged beneath the swirling yellow lights. He pulled both mugs off the replicator platform and made his way out into the main infirmary area.

"Tea?"

Commander Rzepka looked up from her PADD and smiled before holding out her hand. Her raspy voice had improved to the sound of a tired bull frog. "Thank you."

"What are you working on?" Bashir lowered himself into a chair close to the bio bed. He held the raktijino to his lips and breathed in the steam. Rzepka shook her head in disappointment and held up her PADD before dropping it on the bio bed beside where she sat.

"I'm trying to locate a warp core system to replace _Defiant's_. Not much luck." Her dejected voice pulled at the doctor's heartstrings. He knew she was under a lot of stress already, the warp core issue just made it worse.

"Do you think the entire system needs to be replaced?" Bashir asked, hoping for a positive answer. Rzepka merely nodded at his statement.

"The anti-matter injectors are all destroyed. You can't replace the injectors without replacing the entire system; it will overload a used core."

"Oh..." Bashir breathed. He took a sip from his cup as Rzepka did the same. The negative air pressure in the room helped Bashir wake up a bit and his headache was already starting to ease. He looked back up at the commander who was still struggling to breathe; but overall, looked much better. "I'm sorry your first week has been so... active."

The commander smiled. "I didn't expect anything less."

Bashir's gaze fixated on the green coffee cup in his hands. His mind wandered back to the appointment he was blowing off. Work was too important right now - he knew the counselor would never accept that excuse.

_Do you want to talk about it, Imdazi?_

Bashir's head snapped up when he thought he heard the commander's voice. She was silent as a stone, but looking at his face with a soft eye. When his eyes met hers, she let a small smile overcome her face. _Well? Do you?_

Hearing her voice from the inside made Bashir's heart jump. It had been so long since he heard her like that. He was even feeling relieved she could still communicate with him on that level, considering they hadn't been emotionally close in eighteen months. He nodded, then smiled.

_Later. Not here. _ When she nodded a tiny nod then took another sip of her tea, he know she heard him. Before the silent conversation could continue, however, Krissten entered the room with a light knock on the doorway.

"Last antibiotic dose!" The medical assistant's voice was cheery and bright. Bashir stood from his chair, put on an obviously fake smile and reached the hypospray she was holding.

"Thank you, Krissten."

* * *

Security Chief Jefferson Blackmer sat at his desk deeply concentrating on the reports from Defiant for the past two weeks. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he certainly didn't want to miss anything. He was having a hard time really integrating into his new role as security chief since his transfer three months ago and he wanted to prove himself to Captain Ro. Somehow.

As if on cue, his door chime rang and Blackmer quickly recognized Ro's figure behind the door. He sat up straight and answered the door. "Come in."

Ro stepped forward, her short but lean stature standing straight and stiff. "Good morning, Chief. Have you seen this?"

She handed over a PADD as a lump dutifully formed in Blacmker's throat. He carefully scanned the information.

Lieutenant William Barr's service record was displayed on the PADD screen. Blackmer frantically tried to think of a reason the captain was giving it to him. Then he noticed Barr's face.

"He's the officer in the security video, isn't he?" Blackmer quietly asked. The captain nodded.

"I want him in your office within the hour. Call me when he's here and I will come speak with both of you," the captain replied. "And Chief - what was that all about this morning? You seem uneasy. Everything okay?"

Blackmer shifted his weight in is chair. "Yes sir. Everything is fine. I mean, well... " he paused and took a breath when the Captain sat in the chair across from his desk. She wasn't going to leave without an answer. "Well, to be perfectly honest, sir... it's the new Chief engineer."

"Rzepka?" the captain said, her surprise inching through her voice. Blackmer nodded as the captain's eyebrows furrowed and her legs crossed at the knees. "What about her?"

"Well, sir... I'm just not sure what to... think... around her," Blackmer confessed. "She _is_ a telepath, isn't she?"

The captain's tiny smile couldn't be helped. "Yes, she is. Have you never worked with a telepath before?"

Blackmer shook his head. "I don't think I've even met one before."

"Well, Chief, I can tell you, you're not the first one to have this problem. My advice is always to sit down and talk to her. Ask her about her culture. She's very understanding about this kind of thing," Ro replied. "But give her until at least tomorrow. She's got her hands full today."

With that statement, the captain stood from her chair and smiled again at the chief. "I trust that you and she will work out any uneasiness you may have. And I trust to hear from you on Barr within the hour. I won't be far away." Chief Blackmer nodded at her as she turned on her heel and walked back out through the security door.

* * *

Captian Ro quietly stepped out into the Promenade from the security office. She felt strange visiting her Chief of Security in _her_ old office, even though she'd been out of the position of security chief for nearly four months. Running a space station was nothing like she'd imagined - it was much harder and much more complicated. As she turned toward the infirmary, she wondered if she would ever feel at home on her station.

"Captain," Doctor Bashir greeted her from his office when he saw her enter through the main infirmary doors. "What can I do for you?"

"Doctor, I just stopped by to say thank you for your help with that DNA scan this morning," Ro said, leaning on the office door and crossing her arms over her chest casually. "And to see what the damage is with Commander Rzepka."

Doctor Bashir stood slowly from his chair, picking up a PADD from his desk. "You're welcome. And pneumocystis pneumonia. She'll be fine in a day or two."

"Relieved of duty?" the captain asked, thinking she wanted to speak with the Commander about a few things.

Doctor Bashir shook his head. "She's off today anyway; she'll be fine to return to duty tomorrow."

Ro nodded. "Thank you, Doctor. Again, I appreciate your help."

The captain turned and headed back out to the Promenade to waste a little bit of time before Blackmer called her back. She had a feeling she was about to have a long afternoon.


	12. Chapter 12

Gell Kamemor glided through the dimly lit restaurant with the stealth of a warbird. Her gray trench cloak dripped with the afternoon's warm rain as a young usher approached her from behind.

"Your cloak, madam?"

Kamemor turned and allowed the usher to take her dripping outer garment. She brushed back her short hair with her fingers and straightened her back. She didn't say thank you to the young man, but rather made her way to a small table in the back corner. She sat on the soft, burgundy velour bench and breathed deep. Her mind was racing with the day's events. She had received a notification that Defiant had been neutralized and that reinforcements had been distributed to Federation Starbase 179. The only available warp core replacement, that they know of, was residing at that starbase and Kamemor intended to keep it there.

A waiter broke her train of thought when he approached her quickly. "What can I get for you, Madam Praetor?"

Kamemor felt a surge of pride when the waiter recognized her. It made her feel important. She liked it.

"Romulan Ale," she quickly said, but then changed her mind. "No, I'll have a glass of Povtunu."

The waiter nodded and turned away. Kamemor noticed a couple walk in the door of the restaurant, hand in hand. They seemed so happy and in love. She wondered if she ever looked like that with Ravent.

The waiter placed the glass of expensive Vulcan red wine down on the table in front of her and she picked it up quickly. Holding the glass to her lips, she gazed around the room again. Another couple sat at a table a few yards away. Two men engaged in a heated discussion a few tables to her left. Otherwise, the restaurant was empty, quiet, and serene.

Off to the Praetor's left, a small band started a playing soft, jazz-like tune. She eyed the lead gorote player - he played an instrument similar to a piano. His music sounded... forced. Artificial. Almost like he hadn't mastered the skill, so he was trying to impress the crowd with his mediocre skills. Kamemor could relate. She dealt with mediocrity all the time - at her job within the Senate, with the Pact, and now... with herself.

Earlier in the day, Kamemor had received a message that the attack on Starfleet's warship Defiant was successful. When she heard the news, she felt something strange. While she was glad the attack went as planned and no one was hurt, she was more interested in winning. She doubted Starfleet suspected the Typhon Pact and she was very proud of herself.

Still, for some reason she felt unfulfilled. The battle was over. The war had far from started. The Typhon Pact could never advance without reaching the Gamma Quadrant and sitting in the nearly deserted restaurant, by herself, Gell Kamemor made a promise to herself she would make that prospect a reality. She refused to be mediocre like her colleagues and the gorote player.

Sipping her wine again, she peered out among the few patrons. One couple who seemed more reserved than the others appeared to be having a disagreement. The woman stared at her plate on the table as the man heatedly lectured. She seemed powerless and sheepish. Kamemore shook her head. _Shame on her_, she thought to herself. _She should assert herself as much as he is._

As the wine in her glass diminished, she thought about what she noticed about the arguing couple. For years, she had walked on eggshells around Starfleet. She never wanted to hurt anyone, let alone the most powerful organization in the sector. She was always careful around President Nannita Bacco and said only the right things. She had daydreamed about having a relationship with Starfleet one day. But really, the Romulans and Starfleet were just like that arguing couple. The Romulans had recently taken a sheepish, shameful side while Starfleet flexed it's muscles, boasting how advanced they were with quantum drive development.

No more. She was putting up with it no more.

Ravent was gone, that was a fact. No matter how much Ravent influenced Gell to be a a different kind of praetor, Kamemor still craved the power. More than anything, she craved the victory over everything.

_The time to win is now. The time for the Romulans to shine is now. I'm going to make that happen. To hell with Starfleet..._

* * *

_"_Get me Ambassador Krull on subspace."

Her voice boomed over the cold, quiet air of the Senate office. Two young assistants both jumped up to accommodate the Praetor's request. One slowly sat back down as one ran to the subspace comm station.

It was early. The sun was just rising over the mountains as Gell Kamemor walked briskly into her office and straight to her desk. After pondering her new thoughts on her own destiny, and that of Romulus, she was on a mission.

As she sat gracefully, her screen flickered on with the Tholian Ambassador's face. It was very late on Tholia, but the Ambassador was still in his office.

"Praetor. Good morning. What can I do for you?" Krull's voice was calm and smooth. Kamemor and Krull had become close confidants over the past few months and he was the one she trusted the most with Pact matters.

"Krull. The time to engage is now. Lead the rebellion on Starfleet. Use whatever means necessary. Just get the station disabled and get three or four ships through the wormhole." The Praetor noticed the confused look on the Tholian's face and added her thoughts. "We're wasting too much time. We need ships in the Gamma quadrant now."

"I understand, Praetor. I can have the operation carried out within the next week."

"I trust you won't fail, Krull. I trust your judgement. Please let me know if you need any resources to proceed," Kamemor responded, leaning back in her chair. "I don't need to explain to you how important this is."

"Yes Ma'am. I will not disappoint you."

Kamemor closed the transmission and turned her chair to the large, full length window behind her desk. The mountains in the distance loomed quietly, absorbing the yellow and orange light of the rising sun. A sudden surge of regret flooded her when she realized she'd told the ambassador to use any means necessary. Shaking off the feeling, she turned her thought to the victory that waited beyond the wormhole. She folded her hands in her lap and watched the sun rise slowly, thinking about her decision. By the end of the week, the Romulans will be in the Gamma Quadrant and she would be regarded as a hero within the Pact - the woman who can make anything possible.

She smiled to herself with the power she held. Perhaps being the Praetor of the Romulan Senate wasn't so bad.


	13. Chapter 13

**_Since I haven't said this in a few chapters, I'll go ahead and rightfully announce that I do not own any part of Star Trek or Paramount, nor do I own any of their elves, faeries rainbows, geniuses, leprechauns, ideas, hovercrafts, or otherwise fictional characters, ideas, objects or personalities. But if I did..._**

_Personal Log, Supplemental_

_Julian had gotten up that morning to get to the hospital. I didn't know this until I walked up to the neurological intensive care unit to visit my mother and noticed him at the nurses station, writing a report. I know he saw me coming by the way his eyebrows furrowed into his nose as he concentrated on the report._

_He mentioned that I was up early, I mentioned he was up earlier. Mom was in the imaging suite, but Julian asked me to step into her room anyway. He followed._

_That's where he told me he knew what was wrong with her. He had figured out why her brain was not functioning properly and he figured out how to "reset" her neural pathways. I never loved him as much as I did in that moment. He saved my mother._

_A few hours later, my mother was out of surgery and he met me in the waiting room. I'll never forget the look on his face. He'd won. __**We**__ had won._

_I'm so thankful to know such a wonderfully talented and caring person as Julian. Sometimes I'm not sure where my life would be without him – both emotionally and physically._

_Anyway, shortly my mother's release from the hospital, Julian returned to the station. I hated to see him go. He asked me to come back as soon as my assignment was over, which was only another month at that time. I told him I didn't know._

_Today, I wish I had turned down the reassignment. What a mess I'm in now._

_When I requested the transfer back to Deep Space Nine, Starfleet had just finished a restructure of the Engineering command. They needed a full-time Chief of Engineering for both DS9 and Defiant. I'm no boss, but I knew Defiant was running an old warp core, so I took the opportunity to transition the battleship to a new core system. That's what I do. At the time it seemed kind of perfect._

_My mother is doing remarkably well now, thankfully. I still worry about her. She still calls every single day. She still worries about me. But, she is healthy. Thanks to my friend... one of my best friends._

Commander Rzepka leaned back in her chair and heaved a strained sigh. She spent a few moments wondering if Julian Bashir really was her best friend... and wondering how it got that way...

Since she was ill earlier in the week, she had done a remarkable amount of work in researching locations of warp building stations, calling commandants and Starfleet Engineering, and praying. She had located a warp core on Starbase 179 and just needed a way to transport it back to Deep Space Nine. Feeling slightly satisfied and completely exhausted, when the end of the week finally arrived, all she wanted was to relax with a book on the sofa in her quarters. As with any book, once she was three pages into it, she was asleep with the reader resting comfortably on her chest.

The chime startled her awake. She sat quickly and realized it was Julian behind the door.

Probably coming to check on me, like always, she thought as she smiled to herself. "Come in."

The door hissed open, revealing the doctor's tall, lean figure. He stepped inside, smiling when he saw her. "Did I wake you?"

Rzepka nodded. "It's ok, come in. Sit down."

Bashir did as she asked, sitting in an adjacent chair. "How are you feeling today?"

"Better," Rzepka replied. Her voice was nearly back to normal and her chest didn't feel so heavy. "Much better, actually."

"Good!" Bashir replied. "Very good. I'm glad to hear it." The commander stared at the doctor's olive face for a few moments, trying to figure out what he was thinking. His normally bright brown eyes had lost their sparkle. He wasn't well.

"And... how are _you_ feeling?" Rzepka asked, sitting back and propping her bare feet up on the coffee table. She adjusted the dark green blanket so it covered her feet.

Bashir's audible sigh told Rzepka exactly what she suspected – he was indifferent.

"Well, I was hoping you had a few moments to talk," he replied. He finally locked eyes with her and put himself in a vulnerable, unprotected situation.

Rzepka let her eyebrows furrow. She was sure he referred to the counseling, but she still gazed at him quixotically.

"I've been going to see a therapist for a few months now," Bashir started slowly, sitting back in his chair and crossing his legs. "I've seen him in response to some depression symptoms I've had."

The commander didn't say anything, mostly because she couldn't figure out how to tell him she knew. She nodded at his statement, then decided not to hold back.

"I knew."

"You did?"

She nodded again. "I mean, I didn't _know_. Exactly, what... I didn't know that. But... I knew something was wrong. How long has this been going on?"

Bashir looked again at the commander's ebony eyes. They always told how she was feeling. This evening, the Betazoid's eyes were full of worry and he didn't like it. He smiled, trying to lighten the conversation. "Oh, not that long, really. It's not that serious."

A cold stare and a raised eyebrow from the commander told the doctor he couldn't lie. Not this time. He sighed again.

"Since the day after you left."

The young commander's gaze sat in her hands. Her emotional stability started breaking down, first with sadness, then with her own loneliness, then with _his _sadness, and finally _his_ loneliness. She understood how he felt because she had felt the same way. Before she could piece together her own mind, he spoke again.

"Kymberli, I - "

Rzepka held up her hand to silence him. She needed a few more moments to think about what he said. He had been undoubtedly miserable since she left. Eighteen months. _Did I cause this? Did I force him into some kind of depressive cycle? Is this my fault?_

"Julian, is your depression under control now?"

The doctor's heart was in his throat. He paused for a moment but then admitted the truth, something he couldn't even admit to himself.

"No."

The answer struck Rzepka in the gut but she knew what she had to do. "I can help you. I _want_ to help you."

"You don't have to do that. Just you being here is enough. Really," he said quickly.

The commander shot him another look, then softened her gaze. "I can help you. So I will."

The doctor let a smile overcome his face, then let his head shake. _My love,_ he projected to her. _I've never been so happy to have you near me._

Rzepka grinned and looked at her lap. Her stomach jumped in excitement and the electricity streamed to her brain. _Me too, _she projected back. Every time she and Bashir connected on a telepathic level, she felt tingling in her feet and a small, brief twist in her stomach. She often wondered if that was what love felt like.

"First thing we need, _Imdazi_..." Rzepka started, getting up from her seat. She walked briskly to the dining area and reached into a drawer under the dining table. Her hand emerged holding a holosuite rod. "...is a mud bath." The program was custom made while Rzepka was on Betazed and was an exact replication of the Gazidi Mud Baths and Mineral Springs - one of the most relaxing places on the entire planet. The commander found such peace there, she knew the doctor would, too.

"Mud Bath?" Bashir said, trying to hide his grimace. "Right now? Are you serious!?"

Commander Rzepka flashed a mischievous grin. The mood in the room lightened as she relished how she felt. Excited. Relieved. Scared. In love.

"Of course I'm serious. Right now. Let's go."

The reluctant doctor rose from his seat and followed the engineer out the door, wondering what he would regret in the morning.


	14. Chapter 14

His slightly anxious nature started nudging at his consciousness as he wiggled his toes. The mud between them was slick and warm and made him think of stepping in sewage. _This is disgusting. How can I relax like this? _

_"shhh..."_

The doctor turned his head slowly to the dark-haired woman up to her neck in mud beside him. Head leaning back and a pile of hair on top of her head, she was as still as a statue. Her eyes stayed closed and her face was soft. A small smudge of mud graced her cheek and the doctor resisted the urge to wipe it away, knowing his hand was also covered with the warm brown goo. Still, she looked just as beautiful as the day he first met her.

"I have an issue with textures... I think... I'm not really sure how I can..."

"Julian," Rzepka interrupted quietly without moving or opening her eyes. "Just quiet down and relax."

Bashir leaned his had back again and gazed around at the scenery. Large, looming green trees surrounded them. The mud pit was huge - enough so perhaps 20 more people could join. A warm, almost tropical breeze flowed through the branches and leaves of the trees, creating a very soothing "shhh" sound. A large stone bath house stood to his left, bidding him to come take a shower. The sky above him dripped with beauty - blue skies with always-fluffy pink clouds. The shade of the trees blocked the sun's rays from blinding either one of the mud bathers.

He sank a little lower in his seat and sighed. Thoughts of the day streamed through his brain. Ensign Tenmei decided earlier in the day to move her comatose father, Captain Elias Vaughn, to a hospice on Bajor. Tenmei experienced the stages of grief and loss and the doctor pondered her overall mental health since her father's injury over a year ago. She was so young to have lost both parents.

Thinking about Tenmei's parents, his mind wandered to his own parents. His mother had called him a few days ago, asking him when he was going to come home for a visit. Usually when she and Bashir's father argued over something, she called asking when he was coming home. He knew them well. His home was Deep Space Nine now, and going to visit his parents had become more of a chore than a vacation.

In fact, he had planned to visit his parents with Commander Rzepka, when they were still involved in a relationship. By the time his leave rolled around, they had been split up for several months. He recalled the crushed look on his mother's face when he told her they weren't coming for a visit. Perhaps he was overdue to reschedu -

"Julian."

Rzepka's voice interrupted the doctor's daydream. This time, she opened her eyes and lifted her head to look at his face.

"Yes?" he replied.

"Can't you turn down the volume?"

Bashir looked at the smooth surface of the mud as Rzepka slowly made her way closer to him. "I guess not," he admitted.

Just six inches from his face, her gaze met his. She stared at him for a few long seconds, thinking, before she said anything more.

"Well, that's a problem. There's no thinking in the mud tank," she replied. "Do you need help?"

"What kind of... help?" Bashir replied, trying to pick up on her message. A tiny grin crossed his face as he picked up on her lighthearted demeanor.

"Shutting down your brain. It's pretty easy in the mud pool, really," she said, looking down at her raised hand. It was covered - not an inch of clean skin present. She lowered her hand back into the mud and looked back up at him. "Well?"

"Um..." he hesitated, still trying to pick up what she was projecting. He was uncomfortable already in the mud bath. "I guess?"

The crooked smile on Rzepka's face should have been his first clue that something bad was about to happen. He backed up from her slightly as she raised her hand up out of the mud again, lifting it up above the top of the pool.

_She wouldn't..._

With one swift move, the mud-soaked commander scooped up a handful of slick mud and plopped it directly on top of the doctor's head. She held her hand on top of his squirming head for a few moments, rubbing the mud deeper into his hair. He finally escaped her grasp, his heart was pounding and a drip of mud trickled down his forehead.

"Oh my god," he blurted out. After quickly standing, he tried to wipe his forehead, but the mud on his hand just added to the problem. He looked around, hoping to spot a towel or something to wipe his face with, but no avail. Rzepka had already started moving away from him in defense and was also standing. The smile on her face remained static. "I'm gonna get you for that."

Rzepka shook her head. "No thinking _OR_ fighting in the mud tank," she replied calmly, inching up the step to the ledge of the tank. Bashir climbed the steps on his side of the tank and plodded muddy steps toward her. Before he reached her, she had already gotten out of the pool and took off running.

Just beyond the thicket of trees, a large field stretched out for several hundred feet. The deep green grass was completely undisturbed and beautiful. When Bashir reached the edge of the field, he stopped to look around. He'd already lost her.

"I know you're here somewhere," he loudly but playfully exclaimed. Before he even turned around to head back into the thicket, he felt something wet and slick in his ear. His fast reflexes turned his body around in a split second and he grabbed her with both arms.

"Now _that_," he started, gripping tighter around her waist as she struggled to get away, "was uncalled for."

Rzepka continued to struggle, somehow turning her body so her back was to him and her arms were free. She quickly lost her footing under a developing puddle of dripping mud and as Bashir tried to catch her from falling, he lost his footing too and they both tumbled to the ground.

The only thing comforting to Bashir about the fall was Rzepka's giggles. As she turned over and inched back away from him, he reached out with a muddy hand and painted to lines across her forehead with mud, then a line down her nose and across one cheek. She held up two hands in the air, sitting still in the soft bed of grass. "Ok, ok! Truce!"

The doctor sat beside her, also giggling. "You ok?"

She nodded and looked at him, blinking. "How's your brain now?"

Bashir stopped giggling and thought about her question. Mission accomplished - his brain was quiet, only relishing in the fun of the moment. "It's feeling better," he replied. "Thanks to you."

A few moments passed with them sitting quietly before Bashir's subconscious couldn't contain itself.

"Kym?" he started. She looked up at him with a calm muddy face and waited for him to say something else. "Can we try again?"

The engineer played it off. "We could, but you're not really enjoying the mud much, and it's getting cold now..."

"No, no," Bashir interrupted. "Can we try... _us_... again?"

When she looked up at him, Bashir was sure she would say no. Her eyes were practically emotionless and he got very nervous when he realized she was reaching out for his emotions. His heart leaped in his throat as she started to speak.

"Julian, I've already thought a lot about this. What I want, more than anything, is for you to get emotionally healthy. I don't want a relationship to complicate that," she explained. The doctor thought her answer was very logical and practical. He didn't like it. To his surprise, she continued talking before he could think of anything to say. "So if this interrupts your recovery process in any way, we're cutting it off. If you start getting stressed out over it, we're cutting it off. Deal?"

Bashir didn't say anything. In his surprise and excitement, he leaned over and placed his hand behind her neck gently, pulling her into a kiss. He pressed his lips to hers, absorbing the moment before pulling away from her, still holding her close. "I love you, even though you put mud in my ear."

"I love _you_, Imdazi," she replied quietly, kissing him again. "Now, how about a shower and dinner?"

The doctor nodded, pulling himself and her up off the ground. "Sounds good to me."


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:**** I've had a few glasses of wine. I couldn't resist Happy Hour. ;) The Typhon Pact is making everyone nervous, so I can't be held responsible for what Captain Ro may or may not do in this chapter..**.

Captain Ro Laren stared at the dimly lit console in front of her. Her hazel eyes burned with fatigue and her stomach felt painfully empty. Happy Hour at Quark's continued without her as she drudged trough report after report and watched time tick faster and faster. While she had already finished the paperwork about the accident aboard _Defiant_, she was still entrenched in security reports, engineering reports, tactical scanning reports, and to top it all off, Starfleet requested a high-priority communications diagnostic by tomorrow morning. Not only was she behind in all of her reporting to Starfleet Command, but her battleship was dead in the water.

That night, she truly hated her job.

Mid-way through a security briefing on the Typhon Pact, she immediately thought about the _Defiant_ again. While the security guard in question was cleared for any involvement, she couldn't help but wonder about someone else's involvement with the incident. Commander Rzepka had convinced her that the accident wasn't a simple core failure - the situation must have had intervention to set off the chain of events that led to the core's overload. Whether accidental or incidental, she still felt like they needed to know. As she looked back at the Typhon Pact briefing on the screen, she let her imagination run away.

What if the Pact _was_ involved? Just the thought made her nervous; a ball welled in her gut and twisted itself in a knot. DS9 would be a prime target for them to gain access to the wormhole...

_That's silly,_ she thought to herself. _Why would they target Defiant? Why not the station?_

She tried to push the seemingly illogical thought of her head, but her imagination kept drifting back to her days in the Maquis._ Maneuver warfare,_ she thought to herself. _Perhaps they are trying to create a diversion?_

The thought made her nauseated. If the Pact was truly involved... the station was in grave danger.

Pushing aside her wild imagination again, she pressed on through the debriefing. It described how a few Romulan ships had closed in and surrounded Starbase 179 and Starfleet had taken evasive measures to cut off any incoming and outgoing traffic while they investigated the matter.

_179... 179... Where have I heard that recently...?_ she wondered. Starbase 179 seemed so familiar. Like she had just talked about it...

"OH god," she muttered out loud. "They are cutting off our warp core."

"Computer!" Ro said almost too loudly. "Put a priority one message through to Starfleet Command, attention Admiral Regiata, Paris, France."

A few anxious moments passed before the admiral's face appeared. She was a dark-skinned human and was out of uniform. "Captain Ro, good evening. What can I do for you?"

"Good evening, Admiral," Ro started, trying to calm her pounding heart. "Sir, I have reason to believe the Typhon Pact is targeting Deep Space Nine."

"You do? How so?" the admiral questioned. Her smooth, calm voice seemed devoid of emotion.

"Well, frankly, sir," Ro replied. "I've been reviewing the reports on recent Pact activity and I noticed they are surrounding Starbase 179. Sir, as you know, our warp core recently experienced a serious malfunction and the only replacement core is aboard Starbase 179. We have reason to suspect sabotage aboard _Defiant_. If the Pact sabotaged the core, it would make sense they would be preventing access to the new system aboard 179, thereby causing a diversion and setting us up for an unrecognized attack on the station. I know this..." Ro took a breath and carefully pondered her next words. "I know this because we used the same tactics of maneuver warfare when I was with the Maquis."

"Why do you think the Pact is attacking Deep Space Nine?" The admiral leaned back in her chair and folded her hands across her lap. Ro also sat back in her own chair, trying to calm down.

"The only reason I can think of is the wormhole. For some reason, maybe they are trying to get to the Gamma Quadrant."

Admiral Regiata sighed. Ro sat quietly, secretly hoping the admiral would understand without further explanation. Ro was sure if she had to explain more, she would likely explode.

"Captain, I trust your judgement. Do you feel that your station is in danger at this time?" the admiral asked. Ro pursed her lips before she answered. She let a small nod come over her.

"I do, sir."

"Then," the admiral replied. "I will contact Starfleet Command immediately and get reinforcements out to you. We can probably spare two starships at the current time until we can figure out what is going on at 179."

Ro breathed a small flood of relief through her nose. "Thank you, Admiral. I appreciate your help on this. If it turns out as nothing, then it's nothing. I just can't take the chance thinking it could be... something."

"I understand. I will have more information out to you by tomorrow afternoon. In the mean time... try to get some sleep, Captain. You look like you've worked for days on end."

The screen reverted back to the Starfleet logo as Ro laid her forehead on her desk. Her arms dangled by her sides and she wondered if she picked up her head, that everything would be fine and she would be back on Bajor soaking up the sun on B'joer Beach...

_Ringaling... _

The door chime forced her back into reality. When she realized it was Quark on the other side of the door, she felt a bit better and lifted her head, hoping she didn't have a tell-tale red mark on her forehead. Through an unintentional smile, she called for him to come in.

The Ferengi entered slowly, looking around for any signs of a meeting he was interrupting.

"Hey there," Ro voiced. "What are you doing up here?"

Quark kept looking around for a moment, even looking behind him, ensuring no one had followed him in before he spoke. He motioned to the covered tray in his hand. "I noticed you missed Happy Hour, so I brought Happy Hour to you."

"Quark," Ro breathed, still holding onto the smile. "That's really sweet, but I can't drink that. I have work to do."

Quark held up one finger to silence her while he flashed his signature toothy grin. "I accounted for that as well." With his statement, he removed the lid from the tray. On the tray, one glass of Spring Wine and one glass of sparkling T'Cumbra juice in a stemmed glass waited patiently. He picked up the stemmed glass of juice and sat it on the Captain's desk beside her console. "One T'Cumbra juice, Ma'am."

Ro smiled again and reached for the glass. Quark sat, picked up the spring wine, and leaned back, crossing his legs. "Long night ahead?"

"It's already been one, hun," Ro replied. She sipped her juice and looked back at Quark. Their relationship had been so good the past few months, Ro wondered when the other shoe was going to drop. Since they started secretly dating last year, Ro's time aboard the station had been full of adventure and surprise. She never pictured herself with him, but now here he was. She was even starting to love him a little bit.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Perhaps when you're through, you could come by my quarters and I"ll rub your feet," Quark suggested. "That is, if you want."

Ro looked at Quarks's serious face. Every time he said something thoughtful or helpful, she found herself surrised. For a moment, while she relished his kindness, she forgot about the Typhon Pact mess and relaxed. Just a bit.

"That would be really nice," she responded, sipping from her glass again. "You know, Quark. Sometimes I wonder how I would survive this job if it weren't for you."

Quark laughed quietly and gestured to her drink. "Sometimes I wonder how I would ever survive _my_ job if it weren't for your job. I mean, you're one of my best customers." He watched her face crinkle in a grimace before he continued to tease her. "Therefore, being kind to you is insuring my own business. It's a win-win situation, really."

"Oh my god, get out of here! Now! I'll see you later tonight," Ro suddenly exclaimed with a slight giggle. Quark happily rose from his seat, collected his silver tray, and blew the captain a kiss.

"Until then, my dear. I will be waiting for you."


	16. Chapter 16

"Admiral Lawson, with all due respect, do you have any idea what a dead battleship is doing for our station?"

Commander Rzepka's voice sounded a bit dry as she felt a wave of anger curdling in her gut. The director of Starfleet Corps of Engineers stared coldly at her through the view screen. Commander Rzepka resolved to contact him directly since the Corps of Engineers failed to make arrangements to transfer the warp core at Starbase 179 to DS9.

"Enlighten me," the admiral shot back. His gray hair reflected the light from above his desk and his eyebrow dug into his eye socket. His nerves showed signs of wear at Rzepka's frustration. He didn't understand. She could tell.

"Nothing, sir. It's doing nothing. It's not defending, it's not providing an escape route, it's not contributing. Nothing. If I can't get a new core for this ship, we might as well decommission it and get something new. I've reached nothing but dead ends with this, sir... I need help and I need it yesterday. Sir."

_Defiant's_ systems, propulsion, and armor showed their age – everything needed an overhaul. She secretly hoped the admiral would tell her to decommission the ship and he would send another to the station.

"Commander, I do understand your frustration. Please trust that we are working on a solution and I will get back with you when I know anything," the admiral said, obviously distracted with something else.

"Admiral Lawson, please. I just need level 6 clearance and I can take care of this issue mysel-"

"I will get back with you Commander."

With the Admiral's last words, the screen went dark.

Rzepka slammed her hand on the console and sat back in her chair. With the Typhon Pact's recent activity and a number of unprovoked attacks, the Corps of Engineers and Starfleet stayed busy with more pressing matters than a dead battleship. Rzepka knew that. She still didn't like his answer.

_Defiant's_ empty bridge provided a remote and private place for Commander Rzepka to get work done. A quiet hum of the electrical generator met her ears and soothed her nerves. A few moments of silence passed before she felt Captain Ro's presence behind the left corridor door.

After the doors hissed open, the Bajoran woman walked slowly to Rzepka's engineering station on the left side of the bridge. The commander concentrated on the panel for a few more moments before she turned her chair to face the captain.

"Good evening, Captain," Commander Rzepka quickly greeted. She instantly thought about the close relationship they used to have back at the academy. She felt ill thinking about how much their relationship had changed since then.

"Evening, Commander," Captain Ro replied. She held a small PADD in her hand, undoubtedly waiting to tell her chief engineer about the information on it. "How is tracking that new core going?"

"Slow. The Corps of Engineers aren't being very helpful," the commander replied with a twinge of irritation in her voice.

"Well, this just came in. I thought you might want to see it," Ro said, handing the PADD over and trying to hide her disappointment.

_"...due to the nature of the mission at Deep Space Nine, Starfleet has deployed two starships to supplement battle-readiness for the station and the wormhole. The USS Defiant will stay on the maintenance waiting list until resources for repair or rebuild become available._"

"Are they serious? Why didn't Lawson tell me about this?! What's going on?" Rzepka exclaimed.

"Two nights ago, the Typhon Pact surrounded Starbase 179. As of this morning, Starfleet is rerouting all traffic to the station. We can't get a transport there. The core is unavailable until further notice," Ro explained, leaning on the bulkhead and crossing her arms. "Keep reading. There's more."

The commander read on, still fuming. _"... USS Rutledge and USS Aventine will be stationed at Deep Space Nine until Starfleet reaches a resolution on a defensive tactic."_

A breath caught in Rzepka's throat. Benjamin Sisko commanded the _Rutledge_; he explored new listening posts in the Gamma Quadrant after he received the assignment. _Aventine_ operated under Ezri Dax's commission. Dax and Rzepka remained close friends since they both departed from the station several years earlier.

Before she asked any questions or express her excitement over seeing her comrades again, the viewscreen caught the commander's eye. It flashed on suddenly with the view of the station in the distance. She curiously stood from her station and stepped closer to the screen; a confused Captain Ro standing behind her. Suddenly, Deep Space Nine exploded right in front of them, illuminating the screen with blinding orange and yellow light. Rzepka gasped and turned. The captain still seemed confused.

"Did you just see that?!" Rzepka practically screamed. Ro raised one eyebrow and looked around. The bridge remained dark and the generator's hum remained quiet and persistent.

"See what?" Ro asked quietly. Rzepka raised her arm and pointed to the view screen, then turned to look at it again. It was off. Completely dark. Silence dragged Commander Rzepka back to reality. The captain seemed very worried. The commander grew even more agitated.

"The station! On the screen..." the engineer stammered, suddenly realizing she probably sounded crazy when she sensed the captain's concern. Her voice lowered to nearly a whisper. "It exploded..." Rzepka became so flustered, she didn't think the vision was probably just that – a vision. A premonition.

_Another_ premonition.

"Commander..." Captain Ro gently argued. "Nothing is on the screen. Nothing _was_ on the screen."

Commander Rzepka lowered herself in her chair again, looking around nervously and thinking. Her shaky hands and pounding heart confirmed she saw _something_ on on the screen. She even felt Defiant shudder. How could something that seemed so real, be so unreal?

She looked up at the Captain, who sat in the chair next to hers at the comm station with a disconcerting look on her face. She knew the commander had today off; perhaps she was just stressed out. Perhaps she was just tired. The Captain felt better thinking those things.

"Captain," Rzepka started. Her voice sounded shaky and nervous. Her heart kept pounding and her hands kept shaking. "It was a premonition. I had another premonition about the explosion in the engine room."

Ro's heart skipped a beat.

"You did?"

The commander nodded, setting free a lock of dark brown hair from her ear. "Right before the explosion happened. I saw it. Captain, what if I just saw the station's destruction... and it's about to happen?" Her voice got even more shaky at the thought of the station being destroyed. Before the Captain said another word, she walked to the captain's chair and hailed the station.

"Ro to Ops."

_"Go ahead, Captain,_" Nog's familiar voice came back through the comm.

"Lieutenant Nog, please conduct a station-wide diagnostic. Check every system. Check every crevice. Look over every element. I want _everything_ operating in perfect working order."

_"Aye, sir."_

Captain Ro turned back to the Commander, who stood again, still obviously shaken. "Are you okay?"

"I don't really know, sir," Rzepka replied, her voice still quiet. She pondered what she saw, wondering if the station would really blow up any second.

"Report to the infirmary," Ro firmly said. "I have some work I need to get done here and I will meet you there shortly. Maybe Dr. Guirani can figure out what's happening to you."

"Captain," Rzepka argued. "There's nothing wrong with me. I know what's happening."

Ro approached the commander again, inching close to her and looking her in the eye. "What is it?"

"I'm growing up," Rzepka replied with a small shake of her head. "And it's normal. I've just... got to figure out what it all means..."

As the commander excused herself and walked off the bridge, Captain Ro stood on her battleship and sighed. She wished her relationship with Commander Rzepka could somehow return to stronger footing. They used to tell each other everything. When Ro's temper got the best of her on Kurill Prime, she unknowingly destroyed their relationship. Ro doubted Commander Rzepka's leadership skills and now that she was in command herself, she regretted the fall out between them. Deeply.

_Soon_, she resolved. _I will make it up to her. I'm getting that relationship back. Even if it kills one of us._


	17. Chapter 17

**_Sorry for the delay, folks. I've been busy and sick and all kinds of other excuses. But I'm back. And so is our crew... _**

**_I don't own Paramount or it's characters, plots... blah blah blah... _**

The tired commander grinned to herself as she thought about Captain Dax. She last saw Dax about two years ago when they both served on a reconnaissance mission in the neutral zone aboard the _Aventine_. She hoped Dax wasn't terribly busy when she commanded the computer to get the captain on subspace.

"Kym!"

The captain's image flickered on the screen. She relaxed at her desk while wearing her yellow pajamas; it was late in the evening. She held a glass of red wine in her hand and appeared happy but tired. Commander Rzepka grinned at the comforting sight of her friend.

"Ezri! I'm not disturbing you, am I? You're not on a hot date or anything, are you?" Rzepka grinned again at Dax's casual appearance. The captain waved her free hand in the air and sipped her wine.

"I'm never busy. Are you kidding? You know I never work around here."

The lighthearted conversation lasted for about a half hour, eventually leading into the problem with the Defiant and the necessary warp engine.

"...so you can understand the problem," Rzepka explained. "And then I'm told that you'll be here... oh. Is it tomorrow?!"

Ezri nodded excitedly. "Twelve hours, exactly. I can't wait to see you. Seriously."

"Me too, but I'll be honest, I'd be more exciting if you had a new warp core for me with you."

The captain leaned back in her chair and ran her fingers through her hair. "I know this sounds crazy," she started. "But have you contacted Chief O'Brien? Doesn't he still owe you a favor or something?"

Rzepka's eyes widened with the captain's suggestion. She was right. O'Brien owed her a huge favor from several years ago.

"Ezri," Rzepka breathed. "You're a genius. Excuse me, I have to make a call. I'll see you tomorrow."

With a wink, Dax ended the transmission.

* * *

In twelve hours, _Aventine_ docked at the station right on schedule and Commander Rzepka needed to talk. Her happiness nearly overwhelmed her at the thought of seeing her friend again. She couldn't wait to get down to business.

Talking and drinking wine, that is.

"So," Dax started as she sat with her glass on the sofa in Rzepka's quarters. "Something's wrong. What is it?"

The commander grinned at Dax's intuition. The young captain always knew when something wasn't right. It had been a long two years, but Rzepka relished the face time she had with her best friend.

"I have to tell you something that you're not going to like, but I swear, things are different now. I just need to offload it on you. I'm not looking for a solution or sympathy or anything. I'm just looking to talk. Okay?" Rzepka prepared Dax for what she was about to say. Dax didn't know about Rzepka's relationship with the doctor, much less the breaking up, and now the trying to try again.

Dax took a casual sip of her wine. "Do you want me to put on my counselor hat?"

The commander thought for a moment. "Actually, yes. Yes, that's a great idea."

With a sigh and a sip, Rzepka started the story. Dax remained calm and collected, nodding every few minutes. Ezri wasn't angry or upset. She was more sympathetic than anything.

The silence in the room warranted another trip to the wine bottle on the counter. Ezri brought the bottle to Kym and refilled her glass before refilling her own. Kym valued Ezri's friendship, she valued even more than Ezri wasn't judging her or angry with her. All Kym sensed was understanding and sympathy. She smiled inside thinking about how lucky she was to have a friend like her.

"How are you doing now?" Ezri asked, sitting back down in her chair and crossing her legs. "I mean, emotionally."

Kym sighed, looking at the wine in her glass. She suddenly didn't feel much like drinking.

"I'm having premonitions, some of which are really frightening. I think I'm maturing into a Sensiate," Rzepka explained. "My father was a Sensiate, so it wouldn't surprise me."

"How many premonitions have you experienced?" Dax pressed.

"So far, two. One of the accident on Defiant. One of... " Rzepka paused for a moment to let her heart calm down. "One of the station being destroyed."

Dax's blank stare took Rzepka by surprise. As long as she had known Dax, she'd never seen her speechless.

"The one about the Defiant happened moments after the premonition was over," Rzepka continued. "The one about the station was four days ago. I'm not so sure what to think. So, to answer your question: I"m feeling uneasy. About everything."

"I'll say," Dax agreed. "Does Julian know about this?"

Rzepka shook her head slowly.

"Kimmie, have you seen a doctor about it?"

Rzepka shook her head slowly again.

Dax sighed. "Then how do you know it's not serious? It could be related to your telepathy, or the stem cell transplant or - "

"_Ezri_."

Dax looked up at her friend, worry melting away from her eyes. "Yes?"

"It's not serious."

Rzepka and Dax talked until the very late hours of the night. They easily talked about Commander Rzepka's relationship with the doctor; it was easier than Rzepka thought it would be. By the end of the night, the young commander felt like a weight eased from her shoulders.

* * *

"He's here!"

Commander Rzepa's head snapped up out of her concentration bubble at the Ferengi's shrill voice. She noticed Nog running toward her station in Ops.

"Commander! He's here!"

Rzepka jumped up from her station and hurried after the Ferengi to the turbolift, which took them to the docking ring. Once there, Nog and KRzepka m placed themselves in front of the docking port and waited for it to open. Nog rubbed his hands together nervously and licked his lips the way he does when he's excited. Rzepka had gotten very attuned to his body language to tell what he was thinking and had gotten to know him better over the past few weeks.

"Calm down, Lieutenant. He's not your boss anymore, remember?"

Nog straightened up. He breathed a deep breath and tried to relax. "No, you are."

The commander laughed. "Not right now. On your turf, we're equal."

Before Nog returned sentiment, the sounds of decompression floated into the docking ring and the large maroon cog opened, rolling away to reveal the Master Chief and the Captain David Markel of the starship _Intrepid_, which had on board the new warp drive for _Defiant_.

"Captain Markel, on behalf of the Senior Staff of Deep Space Nine, welcome," Commander Rzepka said, standing at attention in front of the Captain. He nodded.

"Thank you, Commander...?" he asked, holding out his hand for a shake.

"Rzepka. Kymberli Rzepka, sir," she answered, taking his hand in hers. When she let go, she turned to the Chief.

"Chief. It sure is good to see you again," she said with a smile. He stepped toward her and hugged her, then stepped back with his hands on her shoulders.

"Look at you, Rzepka! You look fantastic! You running this place yet?" The chief's irish accent filed her with familiarity and comfort. She flashed back to the days when he was the Chief of Operations on the station. Those were the good, simple days.

"Not even close." Rzepka laughed as the Chief turned to Nog, extending out his hand. They exchanged greetings, then the Chief turned his attention back to the commander.

"Where's Julian? And Ezri?"

Rzepka laughed again at the Chief's enthusiasm. "Ez is on duty, she's probably in opps. Julian is feeling a little under the weather today, but he's in his quarters. I'm sure he'll be up for a visit later."

"Ok, well... let's get over to _Defiant_ and get this new system on board. I'm sure you are in a hurry to get started. I can stay to help you out – the crew of the Intrepid is taking shore leave on the station while we're here."

Nog led the way to the _Defiant_, a security team led Captain Markel to his quarters. Rzepka relished every step of the way with excitement and anticipation.


	18. Chapter 18

Two hours later, the shiny warp core rested in the void where the old core used to belong. No wires, couplings, or feeds were installed, but the three engineers stood and stared at the new warp drive.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" the chief asked. Rzepka nodded. She felt so incredibly pleased with herself and the little wish she made several weeks ago, she was beaming. She loved the new drive. It was pretty and new. She had no idea where it came from, but she didn't care. All she knew: it was hers.

"Well, who wants to go in?" the chief asked again.

"I will," Rzepka replied quickly. "It's my ship. And I've done it before. No problem." The commander turned back to the front of the engine room to retrieve a fire-retardant suit and gloves. From the bottom of the reactor chamber, she needed to hook the plasma inducer to the warp drive cavity – a job that required meticulous precision and care. If any one of the hooks incorrectly aligned, the entire chamber could catch fire with a plasma leak. It was dangerous, but Rzepka had done it twice before. She wasn't scared.

After she got dressed, she came out of her office, still strapping her gloves to her hands.

"Rzepka to infirmary," she said into the comm panel beside her.

"_Bashir here, go ahead_." Rzepka brushed off her surprise at his voice, thinking his headache was probably gone.

"Doctor, we need a stand-by medical team down here in Engineering on Defiant. We will need portable oxygen and a defib unit. We're engaging the warp core."

Per policy, Starfleet Engineering requires a medical team in close proximity before any officer descended into the core.

_"We will be there in ten minutes."_

Ten minutes passed slowly. The engineers stood with their hands on their hips staring at the beautiful, dark warp core. Rzepka noticed sweat dripping down her back in her fire suit, but she knew she couldn't enter the chamber without the team there.

"Can't you just go in?" Nog asked impatiently. He couldn't wait to get the core going.

"Nope," The commander quickly said, without looking at him. "Don't want another court martial."

So they waited some more. By the time the medical team had arrived, a small crowd of engineers and security officers had gathered around the new core, whispering among themselves. As if the pressure wasn't enough, now Rzepka felt the pressure to perform for an audience.

When she noticed the doctor approach with his medical assistant Krissten Richter, she smiled at the sight of him. A few days ago, they talked extensively about his worry about how he promised to try to keep it under control. She promised to stop taking so many risks.

"I thought you had today off," Kym asked quietly as he approached her. He shook his head and smiled back.

"I had an emergency surgery today. Besides, I knew the chief was down here!" Bashir greeted his friend with a hug and a handshake. They exchanged a few greetings, laughed a bit, and had a few pats on the back before Rzepka cleared her throat.

"Can we get started, Gentlemen?"

"Of course, I'm ready." Chief O'Brien stood at the console that would power the core, monitoring its activity. He also manned the tether connected to Rzepka's waist, in case of an emergency. If something went wrong, he could easily pull her to safety. As Rzepka prepared to descend, she noticed the men talking and joking again amongst themselves.

"If this thing blows up with me inside it and you don't pull me out, you're going to have a lot of explaining to do to Starfleet," Rzepka said loudly, pointing a joking accusatory finger at the Chief. "And _you_ will have a lot of explaining to do to my mother." She moved the finger to the doctor. The men straightened up and quieted down.

"Thank you, gentlemen. We will all go out for a drink when we're done. We can socialize then."

Commander Rzepka sat on the edge of the chamber and took a deep breath. The cavity below was a glow with blue lights but nothing yellow or red. No active electricity. She could see the bottom of the reactor – the place she needed to get to. It was about fifteen feet below her and accessible by ladder to go down and up, but the tether would still be attached just in case. The silver bulkheads and the heat shield tile glimmered in the light and reflected her image as she descended.

Before her head dipped below the chamber wall, she turned to Bashir, who was watching her silently but intently.

_Nothing stupid, so no worrying. _She projected her thoughts to him, and when he understood, he gave her a concealed thumbs up. She then disappeared into the chamber.

Blue lights, shiny bulkheads, and a thick layer of dust surrounded the commander as her feet touched solid floor. Six inches of space surrounded her body in which she moved about. As she glanced back up the ladder, she realized she was much farther down than she originally thought.

Not much means of escape.

_Relax, Rzepka. You've done this before. Just get it done and get out. _

As she reached for a tricorder, she heard another voice, but not her own.

_You okay, Kym?_

It was Bashir. Familiar butterflied jumped in her stomach - the kind she always got when he connected with her telepathically. He must have heard her self-encouragment.

_It's a very small space. I'm feeling nervous, but I'm fine. This suit is hot, too. _

_You're brilliantly skilled. You're doing fine. Just take a few deep breaths and get started. I'm here. We're all here. _

Rzepka painstakingly switched each dormant connection – seven total – to working status and installed each power bracket to the warp core. The temperature inside the chamber approached 38 degrees centigrade (close to 100 degrees Fahrenheit) and she was sweating. A lot. By the time she reached the seventh connection, she worried about heat exhaustion.

"Last connection!" she triumphantly hollered while wiping the sweat off her brow. "Damn, it's hot in here."

"You ok?" The chief monitored the temperature and got worried when the temp reached 39.5C.

"Two more minutes and I'm out," she replied. She sensed worry from the chief, but not so much from Bashir. _He doesn't know how hot is in here..._ she thought to herself.

Two minutes passed like two days. The commander knew she was moving slower than she should have been and she felt like she had stopped sweating. Bad sign. Finally, the last coupling locked securely in place and she turned toward the ladder. "I'm coming up!"

One rung at a time. The dizziness became noticible when she reached the top. When Bashir caught sight of her face as she was coming up, the panic overtook his emotions.

"Oh my god. How hot is it in there?!" he exclaimed as he reached down a hand for the engineer. She willingly took it and he pulled her up the last two rungs. She immediately dropped to her knees, clawing at the fire suit.

"About 39.5 centigrade," the chief said quickly, noticing Rzepka's disoriented state. The doctor had already helped her get out of the firesuit when Krissten approached with a tricorder. When the suit was off, the commander leaned against a panel and breathed in the cool air. Her jacket was in her office, so her arms were bare and she wore her yellow undershirt and her black uniform pants. _Nice and cool, _she thought.

Nog came back with a glass of water and handed it down to the Commander, which she took and drank about half. She was already feeling better now that she was out of the heat. After a few more moments, she drew to her feet, waving off the still concerned doctor.

"No worries, remember? I'm fine now," she said to Bashir between breaths but with a smile. Her color returned to her face and she breathed more comfortably. Shaking his head, the doctor decided he was satisfied as Rzepka turned to the Ferengi engineer. "Nog, you're going for the top."

"Of course. No problem, sir."

Nog hurried away to suit up to engage rest of the connections. The top of the warp chamber, about seven feet above the upper deck and assuredly a bit cooler, threatened a fall from whomever was up there. Rzepka hated heights. She new Nog could handle it with the guidance of the Chief, so she retreated to her office. Bashir followed, but she turned around before they got to the door.

"We don't need the medical team any more, Julian. You are free to go," she gently said, still holding her glass. She took another big sip as she waited for him to speak.

"You sure you're ok?" he asked her.

"Yup," she said. "You think that was bad – you should have seen the last core I installed," she said with a grin. "Really, I'm completely fine."

Bashir smiled too. He was still fighting the headache from three days ago, but he hid it well. "Dinner tonight?"

The commander nodded toward the engine room and grinned. "I think the guys will want to go out for a synthale tonight. Wanna come?"

Bashire nodded, planted a light kiss on her lips, leaning in close to her ear. "Then back to my quarters?" he whispered.

Rzepka felt butterflies in her stomach again – they usually showed up when Julian whispered anything in her ear. She nodded, kissed him again, and watched him walk away.


	19. Chapter 19

"Tonight."

The Tholian's deep voice boomed through Gell Kamemor's living room. The gray walls, covered with artwork and sculptures, reflected the sounds and projected it back to Kamemor's ears.

"I swear to you," the Praetor started. "If it is not tonight, you will have to answer to more severe consequences than I can describe over this call."

"Tonight," the Tholian Ambassador replied again. "I swear to _you_."

"I will deploy two Romulan ships to your site within the next six hours. Take them in under cloak and have them on standby in case Starfleet tries to fight back," Kamemor replied. Her voice portrayed her disgust with the delay. "I look forward to hearing your report in the morning."

Once the screen was black, the Praetor sat back in her seated place on the sofa. Still in her robe, she had barely been out of bed for twenty minutes. Rain pelted the window behind her, letting her know it would be a very dreary day. Again. It seemed to her the rain had persisted for months, not merely days.

Kamemor gracefully stood from her seat and floated back to the bedroom. White linens graced her bed, contrasting with the dark gray wall and dark wood headboard. She curled into the bed, pulling the covers up to her shoulder.

_What have I done? _she thought to herself. _What are **they** about to do?_

The soft spot for the Federation surfaced again in her heart and spoke to her. It told her this was a bad idea. It told her Federation citizens were probably going to die. It told her it would be her fault.

Within a few moments, she threw back the comforter and scrambled to the console again. Once the Tholian's face appeared on the screen, she started talking without delay.

"Ambassador, one more thing," she breathlessly said. "No one dies. Remember that."

The Tholian gave her a sideways glance, then plastered a fake smile on his face. "I will try."

"NO!" Kamemor's voice loudly pelted out of her face. "NO ONE dies."

The Tholian nodded. "Yes, Ma'am."

Once the screen was dark again, she retreated back to her place under the covers. As she thought about the Federation and what was about to happen to them, she felt something strange. Remorse. The feeling surprised her yet she continued to think about the soon-to-be displaced families aboard the station. The officers about to receive reassignment. The repair crews working around the clock to repair their home.

It seemed so wrong.

The sting of tears reached her before she could stifle the thoughts. _What if something goes wrong? What if the station really is destroyed? Are we taking enough precautions to prevent that? _Before she realized what was happening, her body convulsed in heavy sobs, leaving her wondering if she was doing the very thing she hated the most: abusing her power.

As sobs turned to moans, tears turned to dry cheeks, and a clear head turned to fuzzy vision, Kamemor sat up in her soft bed and rubbed her eyes. She couldn't help but notice how big the bed was since her wife died. She knew the loss would never get easier for her - she would merely find ways to deal with the loss differently.

_You're too old for this,_ she thought to herself. _ You're doing the right thing. Think about Romulus._

The cold slate floor shocked her feet as she stood from the bed. Outside, the sun barely peeked over the mountains. _Ravent loved this view of the sunrise,_ she thought to herself. _It is almost as beautiful as she was._

She stood at the window for several more long minutes, watching the sun finally rise over the mountainside and cast its orange glow to the valley below. _So beautiful,_ she thought. _ This is why I'm here. This is why Romulus needs me. To preserve the beauty._

_Tonight, history unfolds. Tonight, our world changes. Tonight... I become a legend. A hero. __The respect and power I deserve will be mine._

* * *

Julian Bashir sat impatiently in the counselor's office and tapped his foot nervously. He wasn't exactly sure how to tell the counselor he didn't want to continue the therapy sessions. He was feeling better than he had in the past year and it was all because of her.

But, what if they broke up again? What if something happened between them? What if she got reassigned again?

Before he could torture himself with his random questions, Lieutenant West entered the office looking jolly.

"Good evening, Doctor," West started. "How was your week?"

"Eventful," Bashir started. He told the counselor about all the things he'd been doing, including sleeping up to eight hours a night and eating three meals a day.

"Wow," West concluded. "Seems like you've really been feeling better."

Bashir nodded and looked down at his hands. His fingers laced themselves together, squeezing to a point they turned white. He released his grasp and let the blood flow back into his fingers. "I have."

"But...?" the counselor prodded.

"But I'm still worried," Bashir admitted. "About everything. Her, mostly. And our relationship. About the station. How safe we really are out here. Why do I worry so much?"

"I can't answer that, Julian," West replied. "I _can_ tell you it's a normal part of the post-war process. Even though it's been a few years, anxiety is a common symptom of mild Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I think you might be experiencing that with the potential for more war on the horizon. Sometimes it's just too much for the human brain to deal with."

Bashir sighed. "PTSD? Really? Don't you think that's reaching a bit?"

Lieutenant West sent Bashir a blank stare. "No. I don't. You've been in serious battle situations and seemingly came out of each one without any problems. My guess is you've been suppressing the symptoms enough until now. You can only suppress for so long, you know."

Silence filled the air until West accessed the PADD in his lap. He looked through some notes until he found something he was looking for. "This... Commander Rzepka. She's a telepath? Betazoid?"

Bashir nodded.

"Her society engages in several different forms of mind-cleansing and relaxation techniques. Perhaps she can show you a thing or two," West suggested. "You might be surprised what a good mud bath can do."

A laugh escaped Bashir's lips. "Oh, we've already tried that. It turned out... messy."

West smiled and shook his head. "Julian, I have to be honest with you. There isn't much more I can do than what we've done. If you feel the talk sessions aren't helping, we may need to look at controlling your symptoms with medication."

Bashir's head shot up and he stared West in the eye. "No. No, I'm not going to medicate. The reason I'm here is so I don't have to medicate. And I agree. The talk sessions aren't helping much." He stood from his seat and looked back at West, but not with disdain or anger. With regret. "I'm sorry you couldn't help."

West stood, too. "Me, too. If you change your mind, give me a call."


	20. Chapter 20

Kukalaka was the only other one awake when Commander Rzepka rose in the morning. Her white silk nightgown draped the floor as she tiptoed to the replicator.

"Morning, K," she whispered to Kukalaka, the stuffed bear on the nightstand. His stuffing peeked out from the seam in his arm and one of his eyes had gone missing. He was tattered but loved. He smiled at her, like he always did, and she smiled back as she walked by.

"Coffee, light and sweet, half caff," she whispered into the replicator. As her drink materialized, she thought about the events last night. Luckily, the doctor was off duty that morning and Rzepka worked the evening shift that night, so they could sleep in a bit. She knew it was early by how the quietness stalked the habitat ring. She guessed the time was around 0600.

She sat on the sofa and picked up a PADD to look at the interstellar news. _Romulans Engage Star Base 179, Starfleet Responds to Threat._ The first headline met her eyes quickly. The Romulans engaged the station overnight, stripping them of warp nacelles, plasma inductors, and a warp core. _My warp core,_ she thought to herself. She decided she was glad she wasn't in Starfleet Intelligence any more.

Still, she hated the Typhon Pact. Miserably.

By the time she finished her coffee, Bashir was still asleep. She didn't think he had _that_ much to drink the night before during their bar crawl – which turned into a full-out party involving all of the senior staff and Ezri's senior staff. It was quite a gathering. They finally got in around 0100; they finally got to sleep around 0200.

"Computer, time," she suddenly but quietly said into the air.

_"The time is 0936 hours, 15 seconds."_

Nine thirty! She jumped up from her seat. No wonder no one walked the corridor. Everyone was up and gone by now. She ambled back into the bedroom where she noticed her Imdazi starting to stir. She hoped she hadn't woken him. When he turned toward her, he opened his eyes at her and smiled.

"Good morning, love," he said, still groggy with sleep.

"Morning, Imdazi. It's nine thirty."

"Really?! Wow, I don't think I've ever slept this late."

Rzepka sat on the the edge of the bed next to him and he wrapped his arm around her waist, curling his body around hers. She breathed deep and relished the moment. She loved being intimate with him. The previous night had been earth-shattering, as it always is. She loved the connection they had.

"Wanna grab some breakfast?" Bashir suddenly asked. Rzepka nodded, but Bashir suddenly pulled her into bed with him. She laughed out loud at his outburst and let her body become entangled with his. He kissed her on the lips and she felt his goatee tickle her chin. She loved his goatee.

"Although at the rate we're going, we should just make lunch plans," Rzepka joked as he kissed her again. The doctor's face stayed close to hers as he whispered.

"I don't care about that right now."

The commander giggled again and let herself get lost in the moment. As her Imdazi kissed down her neck, a strange feeling came over her and she sat straight up in the bed, away from his grip.

_She saw it. The Aventine. It was backing away from the station. She suddenly materialized on the bridge. Looking back at the view screen, feeling disoriented. There it was. The series of explosions around the ship reverberated in her ears. Frantically she looked around for clues about what was happening. _

_The bright light on the view screen nearly blinded her, and it rocked the ship. She could hardly stand..._

"Kym!"

She snapped her head up to see Bashir standing next to her. She was standing in the middle of his living room, not really understanding what was going on.

"Julian."

"What's wrong?" he frantically asked. She looked around again, realizing she was in his quarters.

It was another premonition.

She moved toward a chair only a few steps away and sat, breathless. The doctor grabbed his medkit off the nearby table and opened it, retrieving the tricorder.

"It was a premonition. Nothing is wrong with me," the commander finally squeaked out as the doctor opened the tricorder. Her psilosynine levels were very high, which is a major neurotransmitter in Betazoids, but everything else seemed fine. He snapped the tricorder shut and knelt beside her.

"What was it about?" he asked gently. He knew premonitions were fairly common for Betazoids, but they were usually very stressful for the individual.

"I'm not exactly sure. I was transported aboard the bridge of the Aventine. And then there was a bright light in the view screen. Everyone was terrified," she explained. "I don't know why."

"Maybe we should get you down to the infirmary. There has to be a reason this is happening," Bashir suggested, standing up and heading back to the bedroom to get dressed. Rzeoka stood and followed him.

"No, I've already been there. Dr. Guirani couldn't find anything wrong. There is nothing wrong with me," Rzepka insisted. As Bashir continued getting dressed, she sat on the edge of the bed, exasperated.

"This isn't the first one you've had?" he asked, making his way to the closet for a clean uniform.

"No," was all Rzepka squeaked out. "I've been having premonitions for a while. I had one about the accident in engineering before it happened. I also had another two days ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Bashir asked, appearing a little agitated. "What's wrong? Have you had these before?"

"I already told you, Dr. Guirani found nothing wrong. I'm fine. It's _you_ I'm worried about," Rzepka explained. "I thought you were going to work on the worrying thing."

Bashir spun around from the closet and shot a look toward her. His voice grew loud with frustration. "You're having random altered states of consciousness. I would say that is a little more than worrisome."

The commander sighed again. "_Imdazi_, stop."

The doctor froze in his tracks, dressed in his blue undershirt and black pants with socks. He waited for her to speak. She motioned for him to sit on the bed with her and he did as she asked. She looked at her hands and shamefully began to explain.

"I'm sorry this hadn't come up before now. The premonitions I've been having are probably normal part of the maturing process. Some Betazoids, especially those in the noble houses, are what's called "Sensiates." They are those telepaths who can possess what humans call "psychic" abilities or even telekinesis. Some have the ability to manipulate the minds of others. It tends to run in families of the houses," Rzepka explained.

"Yes, I know. When you first came aboard as part of the crew, I did extensive research on your species. Kym... is someone in your family a sensiate?" Bashir asked quietly, wondering why this hadn't come up before. They hadn't really talked about her family much, not even when Bashir was on Betazed to treat Rzepka's mother for a severe viral infection.

The commander slowly nodded. "Several are. The Seventh House – my house – is full of them."

"So... can you... read the thoughts of other people freely?" the doctor asked carefully.

"I can, although I choose not to. It's a terrible invasion of privacy and I just don't want to know what other people are thinking sometimes. I mean, who would?" Rzepka explained. "I'm also very skilled at blocking out the thoughts of others, so it usually isn't even a temptation."

Bashir was not wondering about the telepathy. He was wondering about the premonitions and why she was having visions of the station being destroyed. "Why haven't we talked about this before?"

"I don't really know," Rzepka said, shrugging her shoulders. "I guess it just never came up."

"Love, why is this happening to you now?"

"It's happened before. Right before I left for the academy, I had a few premonitions, but they stopped on their own before I left Betazed. I hadn't had another until last week," she explained. "Could be a result of The Phase, but I really thought I still had a few more years until that came along."

"How do we stop them?" Bashir carefully asked.

The commander shook her head. "We don't. They can be controlled by training and meditation. I would have to go back to Betazed for the training. I think."

They both sat there on the edge of the bed thinking. There's something else you should know," Rzepka suddenly said.

"What's that?"

"We're connected. Our conscious minds are linked. If you haven't had them yet... you probably will. Soon. And you'll continue to have them – as long as I do," she said quietly. "It's what happened with my parents."

The doctor knew Rzepka didn't care to speak of her parents often. Bashir understood, considering he didn't get along with his parents very well. Rzepka and her parents were close; she was still hurt by her father's death.

"Is your mother a sensiate?"

Rzepka shook her head. "It's not my mother. It was my father."

"So, what do we do now?" Bashir gently asked.

"I'm thinking about calling my mother to ask her advice. She may know of a simple solution that wouldn't require a lengthy leave of absence back to the home world," the commander explained, already feeling better. "She'll at least know someone who can help. We'll get it straightened out."

"Right," Bashir said, putting his arms around Rzepka's shoulders and pulling her close. "We will."


	21. Chapter 21

**I'm sorry I bombarded you last week with four chapters at once. I'm eager to get this thing going! I hope you've had time to catch up, but now it's time to fasten your seat belts, folks. Things are about to get bumpy... **

**Are you ready? Here we go! **

Captain Ro tiredly plopped herself down on the floor of the engine room next to a large, open panel. Blinking cables and interfaces spread themselves on the gray and maroon carpet around her, whispering a dismayed message of how much work remained. Her stomach growled and her feet hurt. She hated Delta shift, but at least it was almost over. 0700 couldn't come fast enough. Three more hours…

_"Did you get that left bypass connected?" _

Commander Rzepka's voice echoed from across the room. The captain and the chief engineer had already been working for six hours on rerouting the partial injector junctions to save power for an upcoming core conversion. It was daunting work and she momentarily regretted volunteering to help Commander Rzepka that night.

"Yes," Ro replied loudly, not rising from her seated position. "Time for a break!"

Rzepka slowly rounded the corner and chuckled at the sight of the exhausted captain sitting on the floor. "We have chairs, you know."

"Yeah," Ro replied, adjusting her weight to the opposite hip. "They're too far away."

Rzepka made her way closer to the captain, also sitting on the floor across from her, leaning her aching back against a console. "The floor is convenient, isn't it, sir?"

Ro nodded, looking into her lap. _This is it,_ she thought. _Time to make this right._

"Commander – Kym – can I talk you about something that's been on my mind lately?"

"Of course," Rzepka replied, half grinning. "Am I in trouble again?"

"Should you be?" Ro replied, raising an eyebrow, but then smiling. "No. You're not in trouble. I am."

The commander remained silent as the captain continued.

"If there is one thing I learned during my time with the Maquis, and in the war, it's not to wait to tell someone how you feel. I waited too long already to tell you. I let my pride get in the way and it's been eating at me."

The commander still remained silent. Ro drew a breath and continued.

"I was wrong to challenge your judgment as a commanding officer. I was wrong to desert the away team like I did. And I was very wrong in letting it ruin our friendship. I know it's been two years, but I can't let it go on any longer. And I'm s- s- sorry."

"Captain – Laren – I don't believe I've ever heard you say that before," Rzepka responded straight-faced. "I – I'm not sure what to say. I was angry. Very angry. But… let's face it. That period wasn't the finest of my career… so I guess I probably deserved it. I forgave you a long time ago. I had to. Consider it forgotten."

Ro breathed a sigh. "I know it's going to take some time to get our friendship back to the way it was, if that's even possible. I'm really sorry I let it go this far."

"I don't think it will ever be the same. You're my commanding officer now. Our relationship is already different and we can't change that. But –" Rzepka smiled. "I'd say there's probably a better path than the one we've been on."

Ro nodded. "I think you're probably right."

"Wow," Rzepka breathed. "Now, isn't this station in trouble? A hard-headed woman in command and a hard-headed woman chief engineer. And now… _they're getting along_."

"Starfleet should be worried," Ro laughed. "At this rate, women will be running the entire command. Soon."

Before Rzepka had time to laugh at Ro's statement, movement caught her eye. She pulled herself off the floor and made her way to the right side of the engine room.

"Hello?"

Ro drew to her feet and looked to the direction Rzepka looked. She knew it was late and the entire Delta shift of engineers was out doing repairs on station systems. No one was expected back for another two hours.

"Hello?"

Rzepka called again, straining to hear or sense someone. Finally, a small, older man dressed in civilian clothing appeared from around a corner.

"Oh my, now look what I've done," he muttered, brushing his gray beard with his hand in thought.

"Can I help you?" Ro said with a furrowed eyebrow. The central core was a restricted area and no one except staff permitted after regular hours.

"I'm sorry. I'm afraid I've gotten myself lost," the man said quietly. Rzepka pressed her psionics out to him and received mixed signals back to him. She didn't like it.

"Sir, this area is restricted. How did you get in here?" the commander asked, leaning on the console next to her. She skillfully placed her fingers under the lip of the console and quietly pressed the security alarm.

"I – I came in through that door over there. It readily let me in," the man explained. He appeared nervous and Ro picked up on his guilt.

"Well, where are you going? Maybe we can help you," Ro stalled for time. She saw Rzepka press the button and knew a security team would be arriving any second so she just wanted to keep him talking.

"Um… er… the replimat…" the dark-haired man said, looking around. "I really should get going."

Ro reached out her arm as the man started to move away. "You're not going anywhere."

As if on cue, a security team suddenly rushed through the back door, hands on phasers.

"Boys, this gentleman was trespassing in a restricted area," Ro loudly proclaimed. "Please take him to a holding cell."

Within another minute, the team walked away with the strange man. Ro glanced over at Rzepka with a worried look in her eye.

"Did you recognize him?"

"No," Rzepka said quickly, still with a furrow of her eyebrow. "But he was lying like his life depended on it."

* * *

Thirty minutes into his shift, Julian Bashir yawned and ambled to the replicator in the lounge for another Raktijino. The day seemed so long already and he hadn't even scratched the surface of his twelve-hour day.

"Doctor," Krissten Richter poked her head into the doctor's lounge. "Your first appointment is here."

"Oh," Bashir replied, cup in hand. He nodded and smiled at his assistant. "Please, show her to exam 1."

"She's already there, just waiting on you. Do you want me to get the first scan started?"

"I appreciate that," he replied, nodding again. "I'll be right there."

The walk to the exam room was too short and interrupted by a station-wide alert.

_"All hands, report to battle stations. Code Gray. Repeat, all hands, report to battle stations." _

Code gray. Internal threat. Bashir wondered what was going on as he entered the exam room. His battle station remained in the infirmary during a code gray, so he didn't need to report anywhere.

"What's that about?" Krissten asked quietly, handing him the PADD with the young patient's information. Bashir shook his head while gazing out of the door. The commotion in the hall caught his attention.

"I don't know," he said, quickly handing the PADD back to Krissten. "I'll be right back. Stay here."

In the corridor, droves of people rushed away from the central core through the promenade. Bashir observed from the infirmary main door, looking for any sign of what was going on. After a few moments, he recognized a familiar face.

"Kym!" he yelled, stepping out into the corridor in her path. Commander Rzepka fought the crowd, running in the opposite direction toward the central core. "What's going on?!"

"Julian," Rzepka exclaimed, almost out of breath. She lowered her voice and looked him in the eye. "I'm not sure. I think there could be explosives aboard. They are near the fusion core." She stopped briefly to gather herself. "I need to see what's going on, but we may need to evacuate. Get ready. If you get the command, take your patients to the _Defiant_." She started to hurry away but Bashir grabbed her arm again.

"Kimmie, please be careful."

She turned and stared him in the eye again, revealing a sense of panic. The look in her eye turned Bashir's stomach. He knew it was serious.

"I love you, Imdazi." With that she was gone. Bashir looked out into the corridor again and hurried back into the infirmary. His hands felt shaky and sweaty already.

"What is it?" Krissten met him in the waiting area. Her dark hair shimmered in the light and her wide green eyes revealed her youth.

"I don't know. We need to prepare for an evac. Prep the patients in ICU for transport to _Defiant_," Bashir responded. Within ten minutes, Bashir heard the computer' comm system activate and Captain Ro's voice boomed over the speakers.

_"Attention, all hands. Prepare for a complete evacuation. All non-essential personnel and civilians report to airlocks 3, 4, and 5. All essential personnel and enslisted individuals report to transporter rooms 2 and 5 and airlock 2." _

Bashir immediately tapped his comm badge. "Bashir to Commander Rzepka."

"_Rzepka here!" _Her voice sounded panicked and frantic. _"What is it Julian?"_

_"_Kym, don't try to be a hero. Get out of there," Bashir replied, his heart racing and his palms sweating. "Come with me to _Defiant_."

_"We're trying to disarm these things, Julian. If we can't, I'm ejecting the fusion core. Either way, I'll see you on Defiant soon, I promise."_

Bashir tried to believe her. As he and his assistant and nurses quickly moved patients, he kept trying to believe her.

His heart broke when he realized he couldn't.


	22. Chapter 22

_"COMMANDER! This isn't working! We need to eject the reactor!" _

Lieutenant Nog's shrill voice stung Rzepka's ears. She agreed with him – the casings on the explosive devices were solid and despite their efforts, the engineering and security crew couldn't open the bombs.

"I think we need to – "

A blinding explosion on the opposite side of the fusion core shattered Rzepka's words. The station shuddered under the blast, but Rzepka and Nog remained on their feet.

"Sir, we have a hull breech! Activitating emergency forcefields!" Nog frantically shouted as he worked at a nearby console. The dark reactor loomed in front of them, but remained undamaged.

"What the hell was that?!"

Chief Blackmer's voice appeared behind Rzepka. He sprinted toward the fusion core with two security guards in tow. Rzepka shook her head as she inched closer to the damage site.

"One of the bombs activated. Look at this!" she shouted back, crouching down and picking up one of the shards of explosive casing. Inside the dark metal was a scrolling type word.

"An inscription. It almost looks…. " Blackmer took the piece from Rzepka's hand and turned it over. "Andorian."

The two examined the rest of the shrapnel and determined that all of the bombs were not as powerful as they originally thought. One small hull breech and that was it. No damage to the core. The commander looped the captain in on the discovery.

"Rzepka to Ops."

_"Ro here, I hope you have good news."_

"Well, sir…" Rzepka started. "I don't think these bombs were meant to destroy the station. They aren't powerful enough to ignite the fusion reactor, even if they all went off at the same time."

_"Well, that's a relief. Can we get them disar – "_

Ro's words were interrupted by another explosion and another jolt of the station. This one knocked Nog to his feet, but he quickly pulled himself up.

_"Commander? COMMANDER…?!" _

Ro's voice through the comm link crackled with fear. Rzepka's heart raced.

"Captain. I'm here. We're okay. If all of these bombs detonate at once, we're looking at a massive breach. I think we should eject anyway, just to be safe."

_"Do it. We will continue to evac. Ro out."_

Rzepka looked quickly at Nog, who was already busy engaging the ejection sequence. She glanced over at the team scurrying about and preparing the clamps for release.

_This isn't going to work,_ she thought to herself quickly.

"NO!" Rzepka shouted to no one in particular. As she ran to the far control panel, she felt her stomach turn into a knot. The last blast damaged the ejection system port, fusing the entire chamber completely shut. Without the ability to open that chamber for compressed air to move, the ejection would malfunction.

"It's not going to work!" she shouted again. "We have to manual override!"

Before the team responded, another blast rocked the station. A small leak in the upper bulkhead hissed a few miliseconds before an emergency forcefield force field activated. The commander sensed fear from her engineers and knew the situation was getting above her head.

"Rzepka to Ops!"

_"Go ahead!"_ The captain's voice sounded as frantic as the commanders.

"I have to manually eject the core! I need to activate a full secure field to contain the damage! Ten minutes until breech!"

_"Understood!"_

Rzepka heard swearing from her team as she ordered them to evacuate to Defiant. "Nog!" she screamed, feeling her own throat straining to get the loudest words out. "Get to _Defiant_ and start the pre-launch sequence!"

"Aye, Sir!"

_Now_, Rzepka thought as she raced around the engine room collecting tools. _How am I getting out of here? Defiant will be offloading civilians, Aventine should be getting officers. _

Mid-scramble, Rzepka touched a comm panel and got to work.

"Computer, hail the _Aventine_."

Within seconds, the bridge of Aventine appeared. Rzepka didn't wait for the captain to speak.

"Zee, if this thing starts to breech before I can eject, get me out of here, okay?"

_"Will do, Commander. Good luck."_

* * *

"Computer, locate Commander Kymberli Rzepka."

Julian Bashir's voice boomed over the chaos in Sick Bay. Moments earlier, he felt the ship's docking clamps release and the ship move away from the station. His pounding heart squeezed into his throat as he heard the computer's response to his request.

_"Commander Rzepka is not aboard the Defiant." _

_Shit_, he thought, handing his PADD to Dr. Guriani. "I'll be on the bridge."

His feet pounded the floor under him as the fled to the bridge. _She has to be aboard any second,_ he told himself. _She promised._

Within one minute, Bashir flew through the aft door of the bridge. Lieutenant Tenmei sat in the captain's chair, with no sight of Captain Ro, Colonial Cenn, or any of the senior staff.

"Lieutenant, where are all of the – "

"Shields up! Helm, full reverse! Get us a hundred meters away from the station." Tenmei announced. "Tactical, target the Breen warfighter off the port bow."

A flash of light and jolt of the ship knocked the doctor off his feet. He hit the floor with such surprise, he didn't realize the worst had already happened.

_Warfighter_? As Bashir pulled himself to his feet, the viewscreen caught his eye. Shards of the station floated off into space, some pieces still smouldering, some still in tact. He saw the bodies of those who didn't get off in time; he guessed about a hundred or so.

He clawed his way to the science station, praying he wouldn't pass out. As he sat, he realized not only was DS9 gone, but the Defiant and the other Starfleet vessels were under attack. His shallow breaths barely supported his pounding heart, yet he pressed on.

Another jolt and another command. Auxillary power to the shields... Fire torpedoes... _Aventine_ coming to help... Bashir couldn't make out what was happening. He couldn't understand the commands flying around him.

"Enemy ships are moving off."

Bashir picked up his head in time to see three or four ships – Romulan, Breen, and Tzenkethi – move away from the area and engage warp. The silence stung his ears. No one uttered a word until the quiet was broken by the far door.

Colonial Cenn appeared first. He was pale and walked slowly. Captain Ro followed closely behind, also looking stunned but uninjured. The sight of them soothed Bashir but only for a moment when he realized Commander Rzepka was not with them.

Knees locked under him as he quickly rose from his chair. As the other officers also rose, Ro's voice squeaked out. "As you were."

"Captain," Bashir suddenly cried out. He surprised himself with his own voice. Captain Ro looked at him from a few feet away after she stopped in her tracks. "Where is Kym?"

Ro shook her head. The grim look on her face made Bashir's stomach turn in another knot. "I don't know, Julian. The engineering compliment never made it aboard."

Without warning, both of Bashir's knees gave out and he landed on both of them hard on the floor. Without the strength to pull himself up, he let his body sit on his folded knees with his hands on his thighs. His head bowed itself and shook slowly. As Colonial Cenn approached to help, Bashir waved him off.

"I'm – I'm fine."

Ro knelt on the floor beside him anyway, placing her arm around his shoulder. Bashir tried to fight the approaching sting of tears with no luck. His body shook with sobs as the Captain held onto him tighter. Cenn left them and moved to the front of the bridge to take command.

_She's gone…. My god, she's gone…. _


	23. Chapter 23

Line by line, Gell Kamemor rested comfortably on her plush, white sofa, quietly reading. The romance novel in her hands seemed a bit kitschy, to her opinion, but at least it was entertaining. She sipped on her ale and wondered about the time.

Laying the book on her lap, she reached for her PADD. 1932 hours. Her mind wandered to Deep Space Nine – it would be morning time there by now. The mission should be complete by now, at the very least, the operative should be in for report.

The Romulan Praetor rose from her seated position and placed her tablet back down on the sofa. Her soft gray nightgown hugged her with comfort as she ambled to the window. The rain continued to fall onto the countryside. The Preator wished the rainy season would hurry up and be over.

The comm panel's signal interrupted her thoughts. As she turned to answer, her stomach leaped into her chest. _This is it,_ she thought. _This is the call._

"Preator," the Tholian's voice boomed through the speaker. "Mission complete."

"Thank you, notify me when the sequence is complete," she replied, then immediately closed the channel. She knew the operative aboard the station was placing thirteen explosive devices along the fusion reactor, but their staggered detonations kept the fusion core from detonating. Officers would be busy for two hours trying to contain the explosions and neutralizing explosives, giving the fleet plenty of time to get in through the wormhole.

_Good plan, indeed,_ the praetor thought to herself. She had heard a rumor that _Defiant_ was under repair, but wasn't worried. The _Defiant_ was no match for the fleet of Tholian, Breen, and Romulan ships heading for the wormhole.

Kamemor smugly smiled to herself as she floated back to the sofa, picking up her book. She sighed as she sat, feeling very satisfied. _Just wait until the high council hears about this. _Before long, the Preator had fallen asleep on her sofa with the book draped over her chest. When she opened her eyes again, she knew it was very late. She scurried up from the sofa when she heard the comm panel chime again. Reaching the activation panel, she breathlessly answered.

"Praetor, we have a problem."

The Tholian's voice sounded distraught. Kamemor's heart thumped faster in her chest.

"What is it, Krull?"

"Well, Ma'am… it's Deep Space Nine."

"What about it?!" the Preator's voice became shrill with anger and impatience.

"It was destroyed, Madam Praetor." The voice on the other end of the line became quiet with regret.

"What?!" Kamemor called out. "I thought you said the explosives weren't powerful enough to destroy it!"

"I don't know what happened, sir. We think the second explosion detonated too soon. Our operative hasn't been in contact with us since the third explosion."

The praetor leaned against the wall for support, her head swimming.

"What about Starfleet? Did they evacuate in time?"

"I don't know. I know an evac was started… but I don't know if everyone got off or not."

"Find out what happened," she replied sharply. "Leave the fleet in the Gamma quadrant until this calms down. Once Starfleet leaves the area, we will recall them."

"Well, Madam Praetor… that's the thing. None of our ships made it through the wormhole. Starfleet already dispatched several support vessels upon the discovery of the explosives. I ordered the fleet to retreat before they could all be destroyed."

Gell Kamemor leaned her back against the wall and looked up at the ceiling. She let her body slide down the wall and rest on the floor. Her hands supported her head as she tried to make sense of what the Ambassador was telling her.

"Get me more information. Meet me at headquarters in six hours."

She closed the comm and sat on her floor, stunned. She became dizzy thinking about the outcome of the poorly executed mission. _How could I have been so trusting? _She kicked herself._ Why did I think the Tholian could pull this off? This is my fault. And now... I have to fix it. _

* * *

"Maintain standard orbit, Sam. I'm going to the surface. I will send the order when it is appropriate to start sending DS9 survivors down." Captain Dax stood from her chair and turned toward the back of the bridge. Bajor loomed in the distance on the view screen, promising the frightened officers a safe place to sleep tonight. _DS9 survivors_. The words reverberated in Rzepka's ears. She had no idea how many others were as lucky. She hoped most, if not all, of them, but knew that was probably unlikely.

Dax glanced at her friend, who was still standing in the back of the bridge. "Would you like to join me, Commander?"

Rzepka nodded and quietly followed the captain to the transporter pad behind the bridge. In a flash of a moment, they were on the surface of the planet, overlooking the entrance to the Federation embassy. The air was cold in her throat, which felt tighter than usual. Her mind raced in many directions. To make matters worse, she heard Dax's every thought:

_"I hope Ben has a plan. Ro needs all the help she can get right now."_

_"I wonder how long Aventine will need to stay to protect the embassy."_

_"The Typhon Pact has gone too far this time. What were they thinking?"_

_"I can't believe the Andorians are now against the Federation."_

_"I shouldn't have skipped lunch. Man, I'm starving."_

"Zee?" Rzepka voice still felt weak and shaky.

"Yes?"

"You sound frantic."

Dax shrugged her shoulders. "I have a lot on my mind. We all do."

Rzepka nodded. They climbed the stone steps together and walked through the looming open doors. Vedek Kira Nerys waited for them outside one of the conference rooms. Her long purple cloak floated weightlessly as she rushed to her old friends, taking Rzepka in her arms first.

"My God, I'm glad you're both alright," she practically cried out, releasing the commander and taking Dax into an embrace. "The rest of the senior staff from the fleet are assembled in the large conference room. I can walk you there."

The commander felt refreshed and calmed seeing her old friend again, even if it was under horrible circumstances. Her jelly legs still wobbled under her and her hips ached. Her heart still raced, too. Since she worked third shift the night before, she hadn't slept in over 24 hours. The exhaustion started catching up to her. Kira placed her gaze on Rzepka's pale face again and placed one hand on the commander's cheek.

"You _are_ alright, aren't you?"

The commander nodded slightly, smiling at the concern of her friend. "We're okay, Nerys."

The conference room boasted a huge table – 35 seats at least – with marble floors and soft lighting. Most of the lights emerged from candles, but some electric lighting illuminated the table. Rzepka quickly glanced around the room and saw most of the senior staff from DS9 – everyone except Julian. Her mind wandered toward the worst. _Where is he?!_

She took a seat and quickly realized she couldn't block out any of the thoughts from the people in the room. She glanced over at Captain Sisko, who was reading. Starfleet appointed him head of the fleet of Deep Space Nine, a job he took most seriously. Almost two years had passed since she last saw him, yet he appeared to have aged considerably since then. She heard every word going through his mind about the Andorians and the Typhon Pact. She heard every voice of every thought of every brain in the room – about 20 total. Every emotion, blinding sorrow and anger, debilitating rage, devastating loss.

Just as the Admiral Akkar started speaking, Rzepka knew she had to get out of there.

"I need to step out for a moment," she leaned and whispered to Dax, who nodded amid taking notes. She quietly but quickly stood from her chair and hurried out the heavy wooden doors. She practically ran out of the large double window exterior doors, quickly leaned over the railing of the balcony and vomited on the grass below.

Not much came up. She hadn't eaten in over 10 hours.

After her stomach settled down, the tears surfaced. The Pact - those monsters - destroyed her entire existence, not just the station. The deep loss she felt was nothing like she'd ever felt before. Everything she knew and loved about her home was gone. Even worse, she still didn't know if Julian was alive or not.

"You okay, Commander?"

Rzepka didn't sense Sisko's presence before he spoke. In a startle, she turned to him, but then looked out past the railing once again as he approached her and leaned his elbows on the railing next to her.

"It's just... a bit overwhelming….sir," she said quietly, looking up at him. She suddenly felt deep understanding from the Captain. He had been in this place before.

"What part?"

The displaced engineer thought this was a good question. The real answer was "all of it."

"Being in that room with all of that hurt, anger... rage, frustration... sorrow... I thought I was going to explode," she explained. "I just need a minute to get myself together."

They both stood there quietly for a long moment, soaking in the sunlight as it sank deeper and deeper behind the mountain, ending the most horrible day of Rzepka's life. Ironically, it was the prettiest sunset she'd ever seen on Bajor.

"I'm glad you stayed in Starfleet," the captain suddenly said. She glanced over at him and let a tiny grin come across her face.

"Me too," she quietly but honestly replied.

Sisko stood straight off the railing and tapped his comm badge.

"Sisko to _Defiant_," he said as Rzepka wondered what he was doing.

"_Defiant here_," the voice said.

"Prepare to transport Commander Rzepka directly to the bridge. Get her set up with quarters and whatever else she needs. I will be remaining here on the surface," he said, looking back at her. "Oh, and have Doctor Bashir meet her on the bridge. The commander would like to speak with him."

The young Betazoid let a tired but genuine smile come over her face. "Captain," she breathed. "Ben. Thank you."

"You need to get some sleep. We have a lot of work ahead of us."

She nodded. They _did_ have a lot of work to do.

"Defiant, energize."


	24. Chapter 24

**Hold your breath, people. Things are about to get serious. **

The orange sunlight barely peeked into the rear windows of the Senate Hall when the people stopped filing into the chambers. The Romulan Senate chamber buzzed with light chatter from about a hundred participants - both Senators and spectators.

_I heard they attacked the station and ran. _

_Oh? Well, I heard they planted a bomb and blew the station to pieces. _

_I heard over five thousand people died. _

Each spectator ambled in with curiosity, after hearing the attack which unfolded on the Federation the night before. The representatives from the Typhon Pact sat themselves at the head of the room. All five of them wore grim faces, thinking the worst yet to be delivered from the Praetor.

So, where _was_ she?

The Praetor was over fifteen minutes late, which wasn't like her at all. Ambassador Krull looked around the room for any sign of her and saw nothing. Panicked thoughts raced through his mind as he stood and addressed the anxious Senators and spectators. He wondered why Romulus still had the ridiculous decree allowing spectators in during Senate meetings anyway.

"May I have your attention?!"

The red, bug-like Tholian peered through his thick biosuit, which protected him from freezing to death in the cold Romulan environment. He should have known better than to trust humanoids who couldn't survive in an environment warmer than 38 degrees centigrade.

"_Excuse me_!"

His voice boomed out into the crowd of Romulans, who suddenly turned to him and stopped talking. Well, most of them.

"If I may have your attention. I would like to get started while we are waiting on Praetor Kamemor. I'd like to begin by announcing the recent Pact activities." Ambassador Krull told the story to the best of his knowledge, all the while nervously looking around for the Praetor.

As he fielded the Senators for questions, a voice emitted from the back of the enormous room, from the balcony.

"Ambassador, how many Starfleet officers did we kill in this raid?!"

Krull looked frantically around the room until he saw her standing on the balcony. Gell Kamemor stood above the crowd, away from the hustle and bustle. Blue lighting surrounded her and cast her shadow on the opposing stone wall. Through the light, she appeared almost majestic, tall and thin with a white gown covering her shoulders. The crowd was silent now, most of their gazes fixed on the Preator.

"HOW... MANY?"

"We….. We aren't sure at this point. Possibly up to 700."

The Praetor stepped closer to the balcony's rail, letting Krull get a look at her. "And how many Starfleet civilians? And how many Breen? And how many Romulans?!" Her voice crackled as she projected out into the audience. Krull squirmed in his biosuit and glanced around the room again.

"At this time, we can't be sure."

"You can't be sure? How many didn't come home? How many were floating out in space? DIDN'T YOU COUNT?!"

Ambassador Krull looked closer at the Praetor, who seemed very emotional. "No. I didn't count. I can assure you, as soon as we get more details – "

"NO!" Kamemor's voice projected even louder than before as she placed one bare foot on the railing above her, then seated herself on the railing, feet dangling over. Immediately Krull noticed something was very wrong. "Their blood is on YOUR hands and you didn't even count their bodies. YOUR hands. Not mine. Not Ravent's. Not Sorilk's. YOURS!"

Before Krull or any of the council members reached the Preator, she gracefully pushed her tiny body over the edge of the rail. When the noose caught her throat, an audible and sickening _crack_ was heard throughout the silent Senate chamber. Every mouth fell open, every lung expanded with a frightened gasp when the rope pulled taught, dangling the lifeless Praetor's body as it swung gently above their heads.

* * *

The Romulan People received her letter the following day:

_Senators, Investigators, or whomever may find this letter:_

_This had to be done. I realize not many of you will understand, but Ravent is calling to me. So is Sorilk. My logic hasn't strayed too far, I assure you._

_I regret to announce I am unfit to continue as your Romulan Senate Praetor._

_I never meant for this to happen. The Pact's original plan was merely to disable the station, not destroy it. I believe the mistake lies in our miscalculation for the explosions planted on the energy fusion core. A very minor miscalculation cost over 5000 lives, both Federation and Typhon Pact, and may cost many, many more in the future._

_All of this just seems so senseless. I let my head get ahead of my heart and this is where it led us. More disturbing, I believe my mind and judgement has now become unstable and for all of this, including disrupting the Federation, I'm sorry._

_In the days and weeks coming, you will undoubtedly be busy electing a new praetor, offering the Federation six weeks of recovery and allowing them to regroup and defend themselves better against the next attack. I take small comfort in knowing the Senate will indeed take the required six weeks to complete the investigation and finally choose a new Praetor. I also know the Pact cannot continue without a Praetor. The Romulan Senate has not strayed from the six-week election plan and I don't expect them to stray now. At least I know Starfleet and the Federation will have time to get their lives somewhat back together. Consider this a favor to them._

_This is it, boys. We have just inadvertently engaged war on the Federation. Please forgive my pessimistic attitude when I say this is a war we will not win. My advice to you will be the same as if I was still here. _

_Stay out of this one. _

_The Federation is still bitter about the Dominion War and the Borg Invastion. I'm afraid to admit we have rustled up an angry beast which won't satiated until another victory is between its teeth. I implore you to stand down your Typhon Pact initiatives Quantum Slipstream drive will not bring our people to high power. Peace will. This is no way to continue fighting for what we want. _

_The blow to the Romulan people, as well as the rest of the Typhon Pact peoples, will be severe. The Federation will be brutal and ruthless with their backlash which the Pact will undoubtedly receive. I hope you will be prepared. _

_I choose to step away from all of this to a place where you won't find me to drag me back out into your evil ways. I will step into a place where my family is anxiously waiting for me. _

_Good luck. You will certainly need it. _


	25. Chapter 25

The second _Defiant's_ familiar smell filled Commander Rzepka's nose, she felt a small yet welcome sense of comfort. A tiny piece of home that wasn't destroyed. A flood of thoughts and emotions from the crew members on the bridge suddenly hit her like a ton of bricks and a wave of dizziness came over her. A trembling hand instinctively reached out for the back of a chair as she steadied herself.

"Commander, glad to see you're alright," Lieutenant Prynn Tenmei announced happily, looking up from her console. Her dark-features portrayed a strange sense of calm. She sat in the captain's chair, overlooking the bridge. "We have you in section K level 2. There is a replicator in those quarters. Do you need anything else, sir?"

"I think that will be it, Lieutenant. Thank you," the commander replied quietly. Hips popping in her pelvis, she lowered herself into a science station chair at the back of the bridge, took a few deep breaths and pushed the dizziness aside. As she took a second deep breath, the turbolift doors hissed open and a welcome sight filled her eyes.

Dr. Bashir immediately grasped the commander's tired body in his arms, holding her with most of his strength. He pressed his cheek to her temple and she felt the comforting prickles of his salt-and-pepper beard. The way he held the back of her head with his protective hand helped her feel secure– a feeling she didn't even know she craved. She breathed deep his scent, the warmth of his body crept through her uniform. Stinging tears met her eyes as she squeezed them tight, holding onto Bashir tighter and laying her cheek on his chest. She thought about how her nose fit perfectly in the crook of his neck as she nuzzled deeper into him.

"My god," he whispered into her ear, fighting back tears himself. "I didn't think you made it out in time." His relief and worry streamed into her consciousness. She never wanted to let him go again.

"I didn't think you did either," Rzepka finally whispered back. Her body trembled, both out of relief of seeing her lover and pure exhaustion.

Finally, the doctor released his grip on her, holding her out at an arms' length. "Are you alright? Were you injured?"

"No, I wasn't injured. I'm just..." the commander paused. She looked her Imdazi in the eye. She wanted to tell him exactly how she was feeling, but not infront of the entire bridge crew. "Can we talk in private?"

Bashir nodded. "I'll walk you to your quarters."

In the turbolift, the random bridge crew voices quieted. Her head cleared a bit and she realized the anger and sadness were her own emotions. The worry and the relief belonged to Bashir.

"I'm just... having a hard time with all the emotions. I'm not able to block out everyone's thoughts. It's a bit overwhelming," Rzepka started.

"Did you go to the Senior Officers' Meeting?" Bashir asked gently.

Rzepka nodded. "I had to leave." She looked at the floor, noting his inquisitive thoughts. "I vomited on their perfectly manicured lawn."

The turbolift fell quiet for a moment. Bashir tried push aside the worry, but found it nearly impossible. He had no idea the difficulty of dealing with _everyone's_ emotions during a tragedy. Dealing with his own was hard enough.

"Didn't you work overnight last night?" the doctor finally asked. "I bet you're tired, aren't you?"

"Very."

"Perhaps after some rest, you'll feel a bit better. Your telepathy is always much more... unpredictable... when you're tired."

He was right. Twenty-six hours had passed since the commander slept. Once the turbolift reached section K, it stopped, allowing the doors to hiss open. The Doctor and the Engineer stepped out of the lift, turning right for her quarters.

"Would you like to share quarters with me? I'd really like to have some company," Rzepka quietly asked, ignoring the ship's bunking rules. Bashir nodded.

"Of course. I'll let the quartermaster officer know on my way back to sick bay," he replied, then he smiled. "Besides, I don't think my quarters would have a full-service replicator."

Once inside her quarters, Rzepka once again absorbed the comforting smell of _Defiant - _a keen smell of sanitation and leather. A Starfleet smell. An officer's quarters smell.

"Please, try to get some rest. If you have trouble falling asleep, let me know. I'll be back in three or four more hours. I just need to get everything straightened out in sick bay," Bashir quickly explained, reaching out and clutching his love in another embrace. "I know it seems very bad now, but it's going to be okay. We'll get through this together. All of us."

Rzepka nodded, smiled, and looked Bashir in his dark brown eyes. "I love you."

"I love you more," he breathed and with a kiss on the lips, he was out the door and back to work. The quiet quarters consumed the exhausted commander as she laid her head down on the bottom bunk bed.

"Computer, lights."

The lights went dim and her mind lit up. She suddenly realized _everything_ was gone. Her favorite purple nightgown. Her mother's confirmation ring. Her father's favorite coffee mug. _Kukalaka_. What she wouldn't have given to see that silly old bear again. Staring at her from the nightstand. Grinning like he kept a juicy secret he was about to share.

She still didn't know how many of the crew checked in yet or not.

She wondered what happened in the meeting she missed.

_How safe is the Defiant in orbit? Is the Typhon Pact after someone in particular? Are they after anyone at all?_

_I wonder if my mother knows yet. Perhaps I should call her. What would I say? Hey, Mom, I'm okay?_

_Yes, that's a good idea._

Now wide awake, Commander Rzepka rose from her bed and turned back on the lights. She sat at the console to the left of the room and flipped the power switch for the console.

"Computer, send a priority one subspace transmission to Ama Rzepka, Melorin Province, Betazed."

The computer beeped in response as Rzepka realized it was the middle of the night on Betazed at her mother's house. She would be waking her mother out of sleep. No matter, the call was already placed and she would hate for her mother to hear about this happening from someone else.

"... Oh, Kimmie. This is horrible... I'm so sorry. My goodness, child, you don't look well."

"I'm safe, Mom. I just wanted to tell you before you heard it on the news tomorrow..."

Rzepka talked with her mother for a half hour before closing the transmission. She felt blindingly tired now, so she returned to the bottom bunk. Her head swam with thoughts, flashbacks, and emotions of the day. Visions of terrified officers running toward the loading dock as she was running in the opposite direction toward the fusion reactor. Recollections of her own crackling voice screaming orders to Nog to get the crew out of the engine room and to the _Defiant_. The odor of the overloading fusion core still lingering in her nose. The faces of the men and women she didn't even know who didn't make it to the transporter rooms or the runabouts still hanging in her memory.

It all haunted her.

Now having been awake for 28 hours, she craved a cup of coffee and... oatmeal? Her stomach grew hungry for comfort food and oatmeal resembled the closest thing to _graswa, _a Betazoid food made from the bark of the Bezet tree. She remembered the mornings her mother made _graswa_ for her before school. Before she could bring her tired, weary body upright out of her bed, she heard the code panel for the door.

Dr. Bashir quickly appeared in the doorway and spoke with a constant soft voice. "Why are you still awake, Love?"

"Why are you back so early?" Rzepka gently questioned back, curling her eyebrows against the pulsing pain in her head as his emotions flooded her consciousness. She realized her voice crackled and sounded hoarse from screaming orders earlier in the day. A sick, twisted feeling formed in her gut which felt strangely like hunger again, yet she ignored it. She laid back down on the hard bed and draped her arm over her eyes. "Everything okay in sick bay?"

"Oh... yes," Bashir replied, sitting in a leather chair to remove his boots. He felt tired, too, both physically and emotionally. "Just standard operations during a... crisis."

The doctor placed his boots aside and sat back in his chair in relief. He glanced over at Rzepka lying in the bottom bunk, arm still draped over her face. He could tell she looked pale and her breaths were shallow - obviously uncomfortable. Bashir slowly leaned forward in his chair, placing his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. "Are you feeling alright? Can I get you anything, Kym?"

The commander thought for a moment. She suddenly knew she wasn't hungry any more. She suddenly wasn't anything anymore.

"My throat hurts." She sat up on the edge of the bunk, but her body refused to move any further. She looked up at her Imdazi's face – the face she feared gone just a few hours prior. More than anything, she wished she could go back. Tears stung her already burning eyes and her eyebrow furrowed with emotion. Her broken voice sunk to a whisper. "And my heart hurts."

The doctor stood from his chair and sat beside the commander, putting his arm around her shoulders. He held her close as she started to cry large tears, released heaving sobs, and gasped large gulps of air. Bashir couldn't help but feel the sting of his own tears come back to his own eyes, and through a soft voice, he said the only thing he could think of that could comfort her.

"I know. Mine, too."


	26. Chapter 26

_Battle stations! All hands report to battle stations! _

_Commander Rzepka to engineering! Repeat, Commander Rzepka, report to engineering!_

_Electrical jolts of fear streamed through her body as she lay on her bed. Her arms and legs felt heavy and immobile. She tried to call out to the voices she heard through her comm badge. What's wrong? What happening? Her voice remained non-existent, silent and breathless. _

_Commander Rzepka! We need your help! Report to engineering!_

_Her body refused to move. She tried and tried, but soon the station started ripping itself apart. Flashes of light, burning smells, and deafening explosions filled her senses, but she couldn't tell where any of it came from. She couldn't scream or cry. She felt paralyzed. _

Commander Rzepka flashed her eyes open in a brief moment of panic. The darkness in her quarters frightened her, but only until she realized she was aboard _Defiant_. She laid her head back on the pillow briefly and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her palpitating heartbeat.

"Computer, time," she said quietly.

"The time is 0632 hours, 47 seconds."

Five hours. A disgusted feeling came over her as she thought about what little sleep she had gotten night before. She felt like she hadn't slept in years. She glanced over at the clean uniform draped over the chair – the doctor's draped next to it – and stood from her bed. The pain in her hips made her groan a bit, but she didn't want to wake her sleeping lover.

She stepped into the tiny bathroom and changed. She folded her nightgown - her single possession – and placed it back on her bed for the following night.

"MmmmmMMMmmm... Kym?"

Commander Rzepka stepped toward the top bunk where Bashir stirred. Their faces paralleled each other. Bashir opened his eyes and smiled at the sight of her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, although he was already awake. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Why are you up? Are you okay? You look pale." he groggily asked.

"I'm fine. I'm on Alpha shift this morning. I just need to go check in, then I'll head down to the surface for the senior staff meeting at 10. You coming to that?"

Bashir nodded. "What time is it?"

"Six thirty. I can set the alarm for nine if you want."

The commander stepped back to the dining area and retrieved her comm badge from the tabletop. She pulled her pips off the uniform from yesterday and clipped them on her clean uniform. The nausea relented, but she pushed it aside. She knew her nerves and the exhaustion and possibly the hunger were all working against her and already couldn't wait for things to get back to normal again.

"Nope," Bashir finally said, sitting up then lowering himself carefully down to the floor. He was dressed in full length blue pajamas, the kind he always wore. "I'm already up."

Commander Rzepka ordered a replicated breakfast – oatmeal and coffee - and sat in silence as the doctor read aloud the news briefing President Bacco released overnight.

"They're still investigating the involvement of the Andorians," he said, ambling to the replicator and ordering himself a cup of coffee. "But there's no doubt who started the ambush."

"You know what this means, don't you?" Rzepka asked almost too loudly before taking a long sip of her coffee. She stood from her chair to leave without touching the rest of her breakfast.

Bashir nodded then pressed his lips together in disgust. "War. Again."

* * *

Rustle and chatter filled the conference room. Commander Rzepka concentrated hard on blocking out the thoughts and emotions of the senior staff seated around the table, but she couldn't. And she was getting frustrated. The meeting hadn't even started yet and she was already suffocating.

As more of the fleet's senior staff rolled in, including Captain Dax and her first officer, forced a smile at each of them and then averted her gaze back to the PADD on the table. The list in her hand displayed the names of crewmen still unaccounted for. The entire Engineering Beta shift was missing, including Lieutenant Nog. Commander Rzepka feared the worst.

As the noise grew louder, her stomach churned and tightened. The voices and emotions clamored and chattered in her head. Some of the officers looked stern and sullen. Some skillfully covered up their emotions by sharing light jokes among one another. The commander remained still and silent.

Finally, Admiral Leonard Akaar, Commanding Officer of Starfleet Command, stepped to the podium. His long, white hair cascaded around his face and ended in light curls. His aged face held his emotion; he felt distraught. Rzepka understood his grief and state of shock.

"A few moments ago," the admiral slowly began. "Starfleet received a memo from the Federation Interstellar Relations department. Romulan Senate Praetor Gell Kamemor has died from self-inflicted wounds. The Romulan government is currently on shut down in response. We have no doubt the Typhone Pact has been involved with the attack on Deep Space Nine. At this time, The Federation has decided to take an alternative approach in responding to the attack."

_Alternative?_ Rzepka shook her head. _If I was queen of the universe I'd go attack them right now..._ A jolt of pain shot her temple as the rest of her head started throbbing. Her nausea quickly returned and she didn't think she would make it through the meeting. She noticed Bashir sitting at the front of the room and tried to press her thoughts out to him, but he didn't hear her. He was looking at the admiral as he continued to speak.

"Our current count of missing and dead has reached 550 officers and crewmen, 320 civilians. The hands of the transport ships and starships destroyed has yet to be determined."

Colonial Cenn Desca noticed the commander's discomfort but focused on the speaker. Rzepka turned her gaze slightly to him when she realized he was thinking about her.

_You okay_? he mouthed. Rzepka delivered a tiny nod, flashed a tiny smile, and turned back to the Admiral.

Within a few more minutes, Admiral Akaar asked for any report of crewmen still unaccounted for, looking at his own list. Julian Bashir reported two crewmen unaccounted for, Security Chief Blackmer reported four. Even Captain Ro stood and gave her report - five command-level helmsmen didn't check in. Rzepka wondered if the headcount now approached the thousands. She didn't want to think about it.

After another several more minutes, none of the other staff spoke up, so Commander Rzepka decided she should speak then. She stood with the PADD in her hand, her hands shaking.

"Sir, Commander Kymberli Rzepka, Chief Engineer, _Deep Space Nine_. The entire Beta shift crew of Engineers from Deep Space Nine is still unaccounted for, including Lieutenant Nog."

Gasps and silent eyes met her from around the room. The shock of the crew struck her consciousness, bringing on another wave of dizziness. She felt the blood drain from her head and her palms grow clammy and cold. Her face felt detached from the rest of her body.

"How many crewmen, Commander?"

"Thirteen, sir."

Darkness enveloped her vision, slowly at first, as she leaned on the table for support. _This is not good. Not good at all._

"Lieutenant Nog – Assistant Chief of Operations, correct?" The admiral concentrated on his list and didn't look up at the commander. Her legs felt weak and darkness nearly concealed her vision. She noticed Colonial Cenn jump up from his chair and turn toward her before she closed her eyes and let her heavy body fall to the floor of the conference room.


	27. Chapter 27

With the Typhon Pact calming it's advances in light of the Praetor's death, Ro Laren knew she at least had some time to breathe. After the meeting with Admiral Akkar, she received the Executive Order from Starfleet Command to put her officers on Disaster Leave effective immediately. She knew some of them needed it badly, but she secretly hoped Starfleet would put them all back on the Defiant to go catch the animals who did this.

"Captain?"

Ro spun in her chair. The bridge was relatively quiet except for the soft him of each officer station and a few beeping panels. The bridge was nearly deserted except for herself, her helmsman and one tactical officer.

Benjamin Sisko stood tall and looked calm. He looked around the bridge as if he left it only yesterday. The purple and gray carpet under his feet had faded a bit since he saw it last but otherwise the bridge looked unchanged. "How about a coffee break?"

Captain Ro's eyebrow raised practically by itself at Sisko's request. At nearly two in the afternoon, it seemed like a good time for coffee, but she knew Sisko stopped drining it several years ago. Or so he admitted. She nodded anyway and stood to stretch.

"Lieutenant, you have the bridge," Ro called to the tactical officer, who immediately stood and took the captain's seat. She turned toward Sisko. "Where to?"

"How about the staff lounge? It was pretty deserted when I just walked by there."

The walk to the lounge was quiet, punctuated only by Ro's comments about how quiet it was.

"Oh by the way," Sisko suddenly piped up. "How is Commander Rzepka?"

Ro shook her head. "Not sure. I haven't gotten a report yet. I'm going to assume she's okay, or I'd probably know."

As predicted, the lounge remained empty. As the brass hats ordered their coffee, Sisko asked about Disaster Leave for the crew. Ro nodded as she sat.

"I received the order this morning," she said, sipping her hot coffee. "Thirty days seems like forever."

"How are you holding up? Seems like you could use the leave just as much as your officers." Sisko sipped his coffee slowly, then remembered why he stopped drinking it years ago.

"I'm just… I don't really know." Captain Ro took another sip from her cup and looked up across the table at Captain Sisko. "Confused? Angry? Worried? I don't know. All of it."

Sisko nodded. He looked down at his hands, wondering what to say next. The captains both understood now what it was like to lose something very important – their command.

"Laren, It's only been two days. You can't expect yourself to get over it by now. This is why Disaster Recovery Leave is thirty days. Not two." Sisko's words sounded wise, but Ro knew he was just as upset as she was. Deep Space Nine was his first command. It was his home away from Bajor. "Have you distributed the leave order from the command yet?"

Ro slowly nodded, looking back down at her cup. "Colonial Cenn is distributing."

"Good," Sisko replied quickly. "Because we have more important things to deal with now. I need you to talk with Admiral Akkar about keeping the crew together."

Ro looked up at her friend with irritation in her eye. "What? Why?"

"This will be your hardest lesson as a Captain - your crew's morale. I overheard Akkar planning assignments. I tried not to listen but you know... I couldn't help it. He's planning on breaking up the crew. Your crew. Laren, you have to make sure he knows that you want the crew to stay together. Trust me on this." Sisko's words stung Ro's soul. She couldn't even imagine being split apart from her crew now. She knew they all felt the same.

"What?! He can't do that. Come on, are you sure?"

"He can, and he will. Unless Starfleet makes plans to rebuild very soon, all of your crew are on the distro list for new assignments. Your crew has incumbent interest in a replacement station, but if there isn't one... they're just assignment-less crewmen. You need to step in."

"Damn it! This is exactly what I need right now. Isn't there a rule against this or something?" Ro's frustration showed. She already didn't like Admiral Akkar much and this just added fuel to the fire.

"Afraid not. Just talk to him about it. Make a formal statement, then present it to him. You have the right to review all transfers from your command. Just deny all of them," Sisko explained, leaning in closer to her even though the lounge was empty. "I wish I had after the war. I would have saved a lot of heartache among the crew."

Ro contemplated what she was way to the Admiral. She knew she needed leave the ship in 24 hours in response to the leave requirement. That didn't leave much time to get a plan together. "Do you think they're really going to rebuild?"

Sisko shrugged his shoulders as he leaned back in his chair. "Personally, I think they would be stupid not to. The wormhole needs constant protection. They're not going to build it overnight, though. When the crew comes back from leave, you're going to want them all on Defiant until the new station opens. Could be six months or more."

Ro let her head bob in response. "Is Akaar is still on the surface?"

Sisko nodded. "He was fifteen minutes ago."

* * *

The Federation Embassy reached high above her head as Ro Laren approached the front steps. The cool spring air tickled her face as she breathed in the freshness. She felt better just being outside in the sun, but she knew she had work to do.

The gray halls of the Embassy felt sterile. Offices lined the main hall. She knew Akkar's office was on the second floor, but was unsure exactly where. As she climbed the steps , she passed by several Deep Space Nine crewmen and she nodded at each of them. _I'm fighting for you right now_, she thought. _I hope you appreciate what I'm about to do. _

When she reached the top, sunlight poured in a large picture window and struck her eyes. She squinted momentarily before view of the city of Ashalla caught her attention. She stood staring for a moment, feeling a pang of jealousy for the residents of the capitol city. _They get to carry on their normal lives as usual,_ she told herself. _When we are left to pick up the pieces of ours. It's so unfair. _

Before too much time passed, she turned her attention back to finding Akaar. Four offices comprised the entire second floor. One office's door was completely open, so she choose that one to try. A young Bajoran woman sat at the front desk, dressed in a Starfleet security uniform.

"Captain. May I help you with something?" The Lietuenant's voice was soft and pleasant. Ro smiled at her.

"I'm looking for Admiral Akkar's office."

The Lieutenant pointed to her left. "He's next door, sir. I can show you..."

"No, no," Ro replied quickly, holding up her hand. "I'll find it. Thank you."

The conversation between the Admiral and the Captain went well, or so Ro thought. In order to preserve her command, she willingly gave up her Disaster Leave to maintain active command over her officers. Nothing could be done to protect the non-commissioned officers or crewmen, but it was a chance she was willing to take. She wasn't planning on leaving Bajor anyway on her leave and she didn't have much family to visit. Losing her 30 days' leave was a small price to pay for keeping her staff together.

Now all she had to do was survive the next thirty days on desk duty until her staff came back.


	28. Chapter 28

Julian Bashir breathlessly reached Commander Rzepka moments before she regained consciousness. Colonial Cenn knelt beside her after lowering her body to the floor. Bashir's hands shook and his nervousness showed.

"Give her some space, people!" he loudly called to the colonial and to Captain Dax, who also swooped in to help. He quickly leaned down to listen for breath sounds and felt for a pulse in her neck.

"I'm - I'm f... fine..."

Her voice appeared before her eyes did. Bashir placed his hand on her shoulder to prevent her from getting up. "Stay still. You're not fine, but we're going to get you some help," he said quickly before tapping his comm badge. "Bashir to Defiant, two to transport immediately to sick bay. Energize."

Once in Sick Bay, Dr. Aylum Deriat, a young Bajoran doctor, met them in the main ward. "What happened?" she quickly asked.

"Acute loss of consciousness. Thready tachycardia, shallow hyperventilation. Possible atrioventricular fibrillation, possible dehydration. Patient is on immunosuppressants and level three steroids," Bashir rattled off as Dr. Alyum grabbed a tricorder. "Let's get a Chem 20, CBC, and ABG to start. Get me an EKG and start a fluids line, too."

Krissten Richter approached to help and noticed Bashir's agitated state. After observing his behavior, she approached him and gently put her hand on his arm. "Julian? Why don't I wait outside with you? Dr. Aylum and Nurse Bandee can handle this."

Bashir hesitated. The commander was completely conscious now and he clearly saw her normal EKG displayed on the console. Her heart was fine. He nodded at his assistant and turned toward the door. Once they were in the waiting room, Bashir turned to the outside wall and hit it hard with the palm of his hand in frustration. Krissten jumped at his sudden outburst.

"Damn it, I _knew_ she didn't look well this morning. I should have done something. What was I thinking?!"

"Julian..." Krissten said gently. "It's not your fault. I'm sure she's fine."

Bashir took a few deep breaths as he paced. Finally, he held up his hands. "You're absolutely right, Krissten. I'm sorry. It's just... this whole situation is bullshit. And I'm a little stressed. No one deserves to go through what we're going through. No one."

"You won't get any argument from me," Krissten replied, sitting down in a waiting chair. Bashir sat down across from her in the tiny waiting room. He leaned his elbows on his knees and tried to get his blood pressure under control with little luck.

"Do you have any idea how many people have died since yesterday?"

Krissten looked up at him with wide eyes, shaking her head slowly.

"Nearly a thousand. That we know of. We haven't even counted the casualties from the starships and transports," Bashir said sharply. "I can't even wrap my head around those numbers, and the prospect of more is on the horizon. It just infuriates me."

"Maybe we should talk about something else," Krissten suggested. Before another topic surfaced, though, Dr. Aylum appeared in the waiting room and Bashir jumped out of his seat.

"You can go in and see her. Her blood glucose level was very low and she's dehydrated. Everything else came back normal. We're treating the hypoglycemia and dehydration. She'll need some real sleep pretty soon, though."

"That's it?" Bashir asked skeptically. "Thank god, that's nothing. Thank you, doctor."

He hurried back into the treatment ward, already feeling his frustration building. He couldn't believe she wasn't taking care of herself, especially during such a stressful situation. She had been taking anti-rejection medications for a stem cell transplant she received over six years ago. Bashir knew her medication damaged her immune system and stress just made it worse. By not taking care of herself on top of that... she could end up in an anemic crisis or die from an infection.

"Kym," Bashir said when he saw her. He noticed some of the color had started to return to her face as she turned to him.

"Hi," she said with a sigh.

"How are you feeling?" Bashir's voice lacked its usual sympathy and he knew Rzepka sensed his disappointment with her. She sighed again.

"Better. Julian, I'm sorry -"

"You should be sorry. You scared the shit out of me and your colleagues. Kymberli, you know better. When was the last time you ate something?"

She sat up on the edge of the biobed and thought for a moment. The fact she actually had to think about it told Bashir it had been too long. "Two days ago."

"Two days?!" His voice grew a bit louder. "Kym, you _know better. _ Did you not think about the damage you could do to the stem cells? To your immune system? To your heart? Geez, come on. Get your head together and take care of yourself. You just survived one of the biggest catastrophes since the Dominion War. I won't let you kill yourself by not eating."

Bashir saw the shock on the commander's face as he blew up at her. He regretted getting loud with her, but then decided maybe she needed to hear it.

"Julian, are you serious? It's not like I hadn't been otherwise occupied for the past two days. It's not like I've been able to hold down anything but water anyway. How...dare... you say those things." Her voice matched his in volume, but lacked the anger behind it. Apparently, their voices were loud enough to send Dr. Aylum back in to check on them.

Bashir decided he needed to remove himself from the situation to cool down. "I'll be in my office."

"Fine," Rzepka replied coldly, folding her arms across her chest.

* * *

Later that evening, Commander Rzepka relaxed on the floor of her dark quarters, contemplating the past days' events like it was all a dream. Her back hurt, and the only way she could find comfort was laying flat on the floor, pillow under the small of her back, legs propped up in the seat of a chair. She wondered what her mom was up to. She wanted to see her mom more than anything.

The door hissed open. He was back earlier than she expected.

"Can I turn on the lights?"

Rzepka sighed, not moving, even though she knew she was laying in his way. "I guess you can."

"Back hurt?"

His voice seemed calmer now, but she sensed his lingering agitation. Rzepka rose from the floor, throwing the pillow back on her bed.

"It's the damn bed."

Bashir sat in the chair her feet were just in, she sat in the opposite chair. She hated fighting. He hated fighting.

"Kimmie, I'm sorry about what happened in sickbay. I'm just… I was just worried… about you."

"You're _always_ worried. It's not an excuse. The way you talked to me was disrespectful and I didn't like it," Rzepka snapped back. She was still angry about the way he treated her.

"Well, maybe if the circumstances were a bit different…" Bashir tried to maintain his composure but felt his temper flaring again.

"What circumstances? I know I'm not the first officer to wear herself thin. Hell, I'm not the first officer _today_ to wear herself thin. Come on, how many times have you ever had to relieve me of duty because of exhaustion?" Her voice sounded sharp. Bashir shook his head slightly.

"Never."

"You're damn right, never. It's not like I'm a repeat offender. _Once_. This happened once. Following the worst day of our lives. I don't deserve the lecture or the guilt trip."

"Kym, do you understand that it might only take one case of exhaustion for you? Or once case of dehydration? You got lucky this time. Do you understand that your… situation… is not like everyone else?"

"_My situation_?" Rzepka stood from her chair to put her shoes back on. She needed to get out of there. "What do you mean, _my situation_? The transplant? The medications? Julian, I can't walk on eggshells every single day. I already live my life in caution that something will happen. I drop my guard _one time_ and you freak out all over the place!"

"God, I'm so sick of this invincibility complex you have going on!" His voice grew louder as he hit his knee with one fist.

"_Me_?! Are you serious?!" Rzepka let out a laugh as she zipped up her other boot. "Oh no, Julian. It's not _me_ who has an invincibility complex. It's you. _You're_ the one denying for years that you have an anxiety problem. You've been ignorant about your own health far longer than I have. So don't read me the Riot Act unless you just want to hear yourself talk."

She turned toward the door quickly.

"Where are you going?" Bashir asked quickly.

"To work."

"No you're not. You're on leave."

"As of when?!"

"Three hours ago. Disaster Leave, effective immediately."

"Well," Rzepka said sharply, taking off her comm badge and dropping it on the table. "I'm sure I can find _something_ to fix on this rickety old ship."

As the commander stormed off, Bashir reached up and grabbed his own comm badge, but instead of dropping it on the table along his girlfriend's, he slung it across the room. He thought about going after her, but decided against it. Having a fight in the corridor was probably less than professional.

He paced the room for a few minutes before he thought a sedative was in his best interest. The medkit on the shelf held two doses of the emergency sedative – one stronger than the other. He reached for the strongest hypospray, thinking just this one time wouldn't hurt much. He programmed the dosage on the tiny keypad on the hypo, but as he reached up for his own neck, he paused. A sudden wave of regret came over him as he quickly dropped the medication back in his medkit.

"What am I doing?" His quiet voice met no ears. He sat back down in his chair, thinking about what he almost just did. He nearly abused a controlled substance. He nearly went to the edge of his ethics.

_My god… I have a problem._

He shook his head again and stood, turned toward the door for a walk around the ship to calm down. He found himself standing in the transporter room before too long, staring at the attendant.

"Send me over to Aventine."


	29. Chapter 29

"You know," Commander Rzepka's voice sounded only half serious. "I was just in sick bay for dehydration yesterday. I don't think drinking is a good idea."

"I'm sure one drink isn't going to kill you. I promise I won't tell." Captain Ezri Dax held a mostly full bottle of Saurian Brandy in one hand and two glasses in the other. Rzepka heaved an exaggerated sigh and held out her hand.

"_Please_, twist my arm some more."

Soon, the women were sitting on the floor of Dax's quarters aboard _Aventine_, mostly drunk and enveloped in fits of giggles. When the giggles of unknown origin faded, Rzepka realized she was about to tell a drunken tale. She didn't care.

"We had a fight yesherday." She giggled at her own words sloshing out of her mouth. A few drops of brandy spilled out of the lip of her glass and she quickly wiped them from her pants.

"Ehh?" Dax replied. "You cray - you crazy. No, we dinnt."

Rzepka nodded in protest. "Yesh we did. Me and Shhooolian."

"Oooohhh..." Dax replied, leaning against the leg of an end table. She looked into her empty glass, clumsily pulled herself up and retrieved the bottle from the bartop. It was almost empty. She poured more into her glass, spilling a good amount over the top of the glass and on the bar. She paused for only a short moment for she stuck out her tongue and licked the bartop clean, sucking up the liquid in her puckered lips.

"Eeww, Zee!" the commander screamed, releasing another round of giggles. "That's disgusssing!"

"I can just waste ack-ohol like that!" she hollered back, also giggling. "It's an important vantage... veeentige... you know!"

"Are you even _old enough_ to drink?!" Rzepka shot back. A few more moments of giggling led to the Captain - now only dressed in her undershirt and uniform pants - making her way back to the floor beside her friend.

"We had a fight." Rzepka suddenly confessed. "And it was our worse so for."

Dax giggled again at Rzepka's speech. "You're... you're drunk."

"I know..." Rzepka admitted. "So are you."

"Didja win?" Dax's giggles subsided suddenly as she thought about the fights she used to have with the doctor when they were dating.

Rzepka shook her head. "I don think so. We called it a draw."

"So did you already haff da make up sex?"

"What?! NO... no not yet..."

"So what's the problem?"

Rzepka laid her hands over her face. "He said I haff... an invisibility... no invINsibility... complex."

"Well..." Dax started, looking into her glass again before taking another sip. "you do."

"What?!" Rzepka sat up in place as the room spun even faster. "I do not!"

"Yep... how many times haff you been sh-oht?"

The commander looked up at the ceiling again. "A few. Ah guess."

"And how many times haff you knocked on defs door?"

"Ok ok... a few..."

"And how many times haff you ignored the rules and got in big trouble?"

"Geez... okay!" Rzepka shouted, looking at her friend again. "More than a few."

"How many times hasss your career been on da line?"

"Stop! Okay... I getda point," Commander Rzepka said loudly, reaching out for her friend's mouth. She clumsily placed her hand over Dax's mouth. "Damnit."

"What?" Dax calmly asked, leaning her head back to stop the spinning. "It's true."

"I frikkin hate it when he's right," Rzepka admitted, looking into her own glass again. She told herself to stop drinking over an hour ago, but she didn't. "I suck."

"You don suck. Yoooouou're just drunk," Dax exclaimed, letting herself be overcome with giggles again. Rzepka was less than impressed.

"No, Zee," she protested. "Ere's more. You can't tell him I toljou okay?"

"Okay," Dax immediately replied, stifling her giggles.

"He's got... PDS.. no.. PTS... No.. PTSD. Yeah. He's got P...T...S...D."

In a moment, Captain Dax's sobriety kicked in. She sat up and looked at Commander Rzepka carefully. "Oh my goshhh. Are you shure?"

Rzepka nodded. "That's what his therapisss tole him."

"Kym, that could be serious. Whasshe doing about it?"

Rzepka shrugged her shoulders. "Nothin' cept drivin' me crazy."

* * *

When Captain Dax opened her eyes the next morning, her hangover greeted her like a punch in the face. Vaguely remembering the days when Curzon and even Jadzia used to drink Klingon Blood Wine all night and never have as much as a headache in the morning, she groaned when she realized she was on duty in an hour.

A sonic shower helped a bit and she finally dressed and made her way out into the living room. Commander Rzepka slept soundly on her sofa, covered with a dark green blanket. Dax tried to keep as quiet as she could, but the commander woke anyway when the captain ordered a raktijinio.

"Morning, K." The captian took her cup from the replicator and sat in a nearby chair.

"Geez, you're on duty this morning?!"

"Yep, but you can stay as long as you like. I won't kick you out," the captain paused while she sipped her coffee. "Are you guys required to have counseling before you return from leave?"

The commander sat up, momentarily pausing to allow the room to stop spinning. "Not that I'm aware."

Dax scoffed to herself. She knew how stubborn the doctor was about receiving medical care, she knew he would be even worse with getting mental health care. If it wasn't required, he wouldn't do it. At least, he wouldn't stick with it. "When are you leaving for Betazed?"

"Day after tomorrow," Rzepka replied, pulling herself off the sofa and limping to the replicator. "Coffee. Half Caff with creamer. Hot."

"When's he leaving?"

Rzepka shook her head as she slowly dredged back to the sofa. "I dunno. There's a transport leaving for Earth tomorrow," she replied. "And Defiant is departing for Starbase 23 this afternoon. So I'm not sure."

Dax sat quietly, thinking. "Let me get some sources together and I'll call you this afternoon. I think you both should seek counseling while you're gone. I can put you in touch with some good counselors."

The commander furrowed her eyebrows and sipped her coffee. "Why do you think _I_ need counseling?"

Dax stood, straightened her tunic, attached her comm badge to her shoulder and smiled.

"I heard you think you're invisible." She immediately turned and left, leaving a dazed and hung over Commander Rzepka alone to think about - and regret - the night before.


	30. Chapter 30

The air smelled stale in the hospice wing of the Vanadwan Monastery on Bajor. It was aseptic, even. Commander Rzepka immediately remembered that smell – it lingered in her nose for years after her accident. She spent so much time in the infirmary aboard Deep Space Nine, she almost got used to it.

A cheery looking Bajoran nurse greeted the commander in the waiting room.

"Good morning, ma'am. May I help you with something?"

"Actually," Rzepka said quietly. "I'm here to see Commander, I mean... _Captain_ Vaughn."

The nurse pointed to the right – the inpatient suite. "Last bed on the right."

The lights glowed dim. She almost didn't notice Vaughn laying still on his bed. He was still, alright. She had never seen him so still. She froze in her path about fifteen feet from his bedside. _I can't do this_, she thought to herself. _I'm totally going to cry._

She suddenly remembered a few words he once told to her during a difficult time in her life: _You're a fighter. So fight. What are you waiting for?_

_Deep breath, Rzepka. You can do this. _

Closer and closer she drew to his bedside until she could see his chest rising and falling slowly and softly. She sensed nothing from his consciousness and another wave of nervousness came over her. He was dead, although his body was very much alive. She knew his body would give up soon, but she didn't want to think about it. The commander felt certain the captain couldn't hear her, but she started talking anyway.

"Vaughn... Elias... look at this mess you're in," the commander softly said. She felt the sting in her eyes and pushed it away. "You should have retired like I told you to do."

She surveyed his face for... anything. Something she could recognize. She found nothing, an empty shell of a man who once existed at a level she could only dream to meet. She continued with her monologue, mostly to help herself feel better.

"Elias... If I had known it was... this bad... I would have come sooner... Actually, that's probably not true... I would have thought about it. I would have lit a candle in the monastery sooner, probably... I just...wish I had thanked you when I had a chance... for everything you did for me and my career. I know you said one day I would understand, and I think now I do. ….I wish you were here to say 'I told you so.' Or... something else arrogant and self-centered like you always used to."

Rzepka pulled close a nearby stool and sat down. Her head still pounded with the leftover hangover from earlier in the morning. The lump in her throat grew with every breath she drew, but she was far from finished. This was turning out much harder than she originally thought. She looked at her folded hands as she continued to talk.

"I can't tell you how many nights I laid awake thinking about what happened to you. When Julian called me and told me, I almost didn't believe him. I mean, you? The invincible officer that beat practically every other odd ever put against him?"

The commander sat in a few more moments of silence until she scared herself with the words she just uttered. Captain Vaughn did indeed think of himself as invinvible . He never really thought about consequences of his actions. For that reason, he quickly became a valued member of Starfleet Intelligence because the fleet knew he wouldn't hesitate to act as a patriot. During the Borg invasion, he took his ship too close to a Borg sphere to get a perfect shot of their power generator. Even though it worked and the entire fleet of Borg spheres were destroyed, he was gravely injured when his ship clipped the outer hull of the sphere. And now he was in a coma and would never recover because of it.

"I treated you like a child would treat a parent. I felt frustrated at the way you treated me. At the same time, I welcomed it. I was somehow comforted by it.

Commander Rzepka thought about her brief service with Starfleet Intelligence. Vaughn had volunteered as her mentor aboard Deep Space Nine, although he separated from SI several years earlier. Another breath and the words found her shaking lips.

"I'm not sure if you know this or not, by my father died – he was killed – on the day of my graduation from the Academy. It's been twelve years. I've lived without my dad for twelve years. I didn't get along with him that much, but I miss him like crazy. In many ways, he was like you. He took risks. He thought he was indestructible. Rough on the outside, caring and nurturing on the inside. And I wanted to be like him, until I realized what happened to you. I didn't like the way you treated me, but I'm thankful for it. You... I don't know. You stepped into my life at the moment when I needed... my dad... and..."

The tearful commander couldn't continue. The sobs shook her entire body. In that moment, she completely understood Bashir's fear about her own lack of fear. She just wanted to finish and get out of there, so she got a hold of her emotions and spoke through the tears.

"And you filled that role, just for a little while. And now I'm losing you too. And I hate it."

A presence behind her startled the Commander back to reality. She quickly stifled her tears and straightened up. Captain Vaughn's daughter approached Commander Rzepka from behind.

"I hate it too."

Rzepka turned and smiled. "Prynn. It's good to see you." Prynn Tenmei slowly made her way to the commander

"It's good to see you too, Kym." Tenmei responded. She nodded to her father. "He thought highly of you, you know."

Rzepka smiled again. "Thanks."

"I didn't know about your father. I'm sorry to hear it." Tenmei took a seat on the opposite side of the bed and looked down at her father. "Does it ever get easier?"

"No," the commander replied, shaking her head. "But eventually, you'll think about it less and less. Then you'll go an entire day without thinking about it. Then two. Then a week. And then..." She looked down at the dying captain. "The pain will fade. But the loss will always be there."

"How did your father die?"

Tenmei's question surprised the commander, considering the situation. Still, the commander felt small relief talking about something other than the station and her relationship with Bashir.

"My mother and father were on their way to my graduation. Their transport stopped at Mars Colony for a transfer and layover. When they materialized on the surface, a Romulan spy shot and killed my father."

Tenmei's eyes grew wide, but she didn't speak.

"Authorities finally determined it was a tragic case of mistaken identity. I'm not so sure, but there's not much I can do about it now. It wouldn't bring him back anyway."

Commander Rzepka's tears readily fell from her ebony eyes. She thought about Bashir again and what he said to her. She _did_ have an invincibility complex. He was right to worry about her.

"Prynn? Can I ask you something?" she finally spoke up. Prynn nodded. "Did you think your father was... too risky? Do you think he thought was indestructible?"

Prynn nodded. "Oh yes."

"Did you ever tell him?"

Looking down at her father again, she shook her head. "No. Perhaps I should have."

"Prynn," Commander Rzepka stood from her chair. "It was good to see you. I'm sorry to run, but I need to file my leave paperwork. Please, if you need anything... just let me know."

Tenmei nodded. "I will, Kym. Thank you. Have a restful leave."


	31. Chapter 31

Since _Defiant_ functioned as a battleship, the observation deck provided a look out when the ship was cloaked or during sensor down time. Located at the forward of the starboard side of the ship, many officers usually sought solace there. Julian Bashir leaned back on his hands from his cross-legged position at the window; the soothing surface of Bajor loomed beyond the small windows on the observation deck. Seeing the expansive space from the windows always helped him feel calm. Bright, almost blinding sunlight streamed through the windows and the stars seemed so far away. So did his problems. At least for the moment.

"Julian?"

Commander Rzepka's voice sounded sweet to his ears, almost angelic. They worked out their disagreement the previous night before the commander went to have a girls' night with Captain Dax. Bashir turned from his seated place in front of the window and looked up at her, smiling.

"Hey," he replied softly.

"May I join you?" the commander asked gently. Bashir nodded and turned back to the window.

Rzepka sat on the carpeted floor next to him and crossed her legs close to her body. Her hips crackled like dried out leather. The tendons in her legs felt tight and the stretch through her thighs burned intense. Today would have been her regular physical therapy appointment but the doctor didn't mention it. Bashir let the heaviness of his own body remind him of the burden the commanding officers of Deep Space Nine still had to face, including Commander Rzepka. Physical therapy was probably the last thing on her mind.

"I went to see Elias Vaughn today," Rzepka suddenly spoke up, also staring out the window. The doctor peered up at her, but she didn't look at him.

"I thought you didn't want to."

The commander nodded. "I didn't. But I had to. I had to face the realization I've been denying myself since I've been in Starfleet. Hell, even before that."

"What's that?" Bashir asked calmly. The relief spread across his face as he settled into his hip bones on the carpet, ready for a calm conversation.

"That I'm just like him. And my father. And I could have ended up just like them."

"Kimmie, I'm not sure I'm following you," Bashir confessed.

"Julian, Vaughn always thought nothing bad could happen to him, and for a long time, it never did. But then, he pushed the envelope just a little too far and his time ran out."

Bashir averted his dark brown eyes and looked at the commander, who was still looking out the window. He turned his whole body to face her and then reached out for one of her hands. He didn't speak, but instead waited quietly for the rest of the story.

"I don't want to end up like them," she started again. "I don't want my ego to kill me too."

"I appreciate your listening to what I told you the other night, even if we were both angry," Bashir replied calmly. He gripped her hand tighter. "I've seen horrible things happen to people who didn't think it could. I don't want that for you. What changed your view on this?"

Commander Rzepka finally turned her gaze from the window to the doctor. "Now I actually have something to lose."

The commander moved closer to Bashir and leaned her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her and they sat for several minutes in silence, staring out the window as Bajor turned below them. They both sighed with satisfaction almost at the same time, then giggled at each other.

"Come to Earth with me." Bashir finally and suddenly spoke, breaking up the silence. Rzepka picked up her head.

"I already told my mother I would be there on Wednesday. She seemed excited and eager to see me. I can't..." Rzepka replied gently. "How about you come to Betazed with me?"

"I have an even better idea," the doctor said, releasing Rzepka and sitting up straight. "How about... I go with you for a week, then you come meet my family for another week. Then we'll make our way to Capseria Prime for a few days before going back to the rendezvous at Starbase 23."

She looked up at his sad, pleading expression. A small smile spread across her face as she looked back out into space.

"Really? You want me to meet your family?" she asked.

He nodded enthusiastically.

"Alright. But my mother is a doting, wry old woman. Now you can't say I didn't warn you," she admitted. "Besides. It will be kind of fun to have a mud bath partner, anyway." She grinned at the look of discomfort on Julian's face. She knew he hated to be dirty. She loved it.

"We'll see about that."

* * *

_Knock, knock._

Commander Rzepka's mother still hadn't installed a door chime on her front door,which made the commander both smile and cringe. She lived in the convent full time now; since her illness, she felt afraid to go back to her home alone. She hired a grounds and house keeper to maintain the century-old residence which she used to live, as if she was going to return someday. Rzepka knew her mother maintained the house so her daughter would have somewhere to stay when she visited Betazed.

Ama Rzepka slowly opened the door to her small apartment inside the convent village. Her face, though wrinkled with 81 years of living a full life, lit up at the sight of her only daughter. She opened her arms and took Kym into an embrace. She didn't speak a word, only held her daughter.

"My baby," Ama finally whispered. "I praise the Deities for keeping you safe."

The commander held her mother tight, burying her face in the familiar smell of her mother's hair. Ama stood a few inches taller than the commander, even at 81 years old. They held onto the moment even tighter, as if time stood still and they were safe in each other's arms. Ama finally let go of her daughter, holding her out at arms' length.

"Look at you, my child. You're skin and bone. Have you not been eating? Sleeping?"

"Mom," the commander said sharply. Ama smiled at her daughter's embarrassment and turned to Bashir.

"Julian, it's good to see you again," Ama reached out her arms to him, taking his hands and kissing him on the cheek. He smiled at her accent. "I assume you are well."

"Yes, Ma'am," the doctor politely replied. "And I assume the same for you."

"Oh, you know. Just an old lady trying to keep herself busy. Nothing too exciting for me. Come in! Come have a seat!"

Bashir and Rzepka entered the brilliantly lit apartment with white carpets and yellow sofa and chair. It was so bright and cheerful, in fact, that Rzepka felt happy just being there. She hadn't been inside her mother's apartment before, which was a stark contrast to her earthy, wooden and dark homestead.

"Tell me, have you been in contact with the meditation priest?" Ama asked as they sat in the sitting room. The sun streamed through the dramatic floor-to-ceiling windows, revealing pink fluffy clouds in the sky. The sun warmed Kym's hands as she stared at them.

The commander shook her head. "Not yet, Mom. We just got here a few minutes ago. We stopped by the homestead and then came here to see you."

Ama sat back in her chair and looked straight at Julian. "You both should see him. You could use some relaxation. Kimmie, tell me, have you had any more visions? You know," she said, leaning close to Bashir. "Her father always said this would happen to her. _She's a sensiate! _ He would me. He could tell. He was a powerful telekinetic as well as a telepath," she beamed as she leaned closer to Bashir's seated position and lowering her voice to a whisper. "Kimmie is gifted, too, you know."

Rzepka rolled her eyes. "Really, Mom. That's... that's good. Thank you."

The conversation lasted a few more moments before the commander stood and explained they were tired from a long journey. As they walked out of the convent, Rzepka breathed a sigh of relief. Being with her mother was rewarding but also nerve wracking, especially since her Imdazi was with her.

"You okay?" Bashir suddenly asked as they made their way to the transport station.

Rzepka nodded and smiled. "You know, the mom meeting the boyfriend is always awkward. Even after she's technically met him before."

They joked about labeling each other "boyfriend and girlfriend," before they transported back to Melorin Province and dined at a quiet, secluded restaurant overlooking the Pseci River. Commander Rzepka loved the river – ever since she was a kid. She missed the sights and sounds of the quiet province where she grew up. There was a certain simplicity to it she couldn't find anywhere else.

For the first time in months, she didn't have a single problem.


	32. Chapter 32

The week on Betazed flew by. The commander and doctor saw many sights, took many mud baths, and relaxed as much as they could. Bashir's anxiety seemed to fade as the week pressed on and the commander took his improvement as a good sign. The morning before they left for Earth, however, a loud knock woke Rzepka from a sound sleep. She quickly rose from her bed, leaving her lover sleeping on the other side. She pulled on her night robe and made her way down to the door.

On her porch stood a tall man with dark hair. He wore a command Starfleet Uniform.

"Commander Rzepka?" his voice boomed but still sounded calm. She nodded.

He handed her a PADD, for which she signed to receive, then nodded and turned away. She closed the door behind him and looked at the PADD with a glint of fear in her eye.

"Who was that?"

The doctor appeared behind her wearing his night robe as well. He tied his belt as she held up the PADD.

"Starfleet."

They both looked at the device in her hand for a moment. Rzepka turned to her left and entered the kitchen, thinking she would read it over a cup of coffee. She sat at the table while Bashir retrieved two cups of coffee from the coffee maker, then placed one down in front of her.

"So. You gonna open it now?"

Her heart pounded as she complied and unlocked the screen.

"Two messages. One from Starfleet Command. The other from Captain Ro," Rzepka announced. "Which one first?"

"Um..." Bashir paused in thought, sitting back in his chair casually and sipping his coffee. "Ro."

The commander touched the icon for the message from the Captain. She wished she hadn't. As she read the words, her body felt numb and her head felt light. She placed the PADD down on the table and placed her head in her hands to steady herself on propped up elbows.

"What is it, Love?" Bashir asked quietly. She slid the PADD across the table to him, not lifting her head. A feeling of nausea came over her as Bashir picked up the PADD to read.

_Attention Commander Kymberli A. Rzepka,_

_My sympathetic duty has arrived to inform you that as of 0203 this morning, recovery scientists discovered Lieutenant Nog's remains adrift in space in close proximity to Deep Space Nine's last coordinates. His Starfleet issue comm badge was found intact and returned to Starfleet Command. I will inform you when memorial services have been arranged for the lieutenant._

_Please accept my deepest condolences on behalf of Starfleet Command and the Corps of Engineers for the loss of one of your subordinate officers and friends. I know I can speak for the entire crew of Deep Space Nine when I say Lieutenant Nog was a fine officer._

_Sincerely,  
Captain Ro Laren_

The distraught doctor placed the PADD back down on the table gently. He laid his hand on top of the commander's shoulder, then moved beside her and placed his arm around her shoulders. She didn't move. Bashir didn't say anything when she finally turned to him, leaning her head into his rib cage. The tears arrived almost violently, overcoming her tiny body with their mighty force. He let her cry for a few moments before he remembered the other message on the PADD.

As she cried on his pajamas, he reached for the PADD again and continued reading.

_Attention Senior Starfleet Officers of Deep Space Nine,_

_Please allow all of us at Starfleet Command and the United Federation of Planets to offer our deepest condolences for the latest series of events leading up to Deep Space Nine's destruction. We understand this is a very difficult time for you._

_Bajor and the Bajoran wormhole are now vulnerable to enemy threats of attack and must be continually protected. We currently have a fleet of star ships and warships constantly patrolling the area and will continue to do so until further notice._

_The Chief of Starfleet Operations along with the Commander of Starfleet Deep Space Explorations have come to a general consensus within the general congress of the United Federation of Planets to begin plans for building a replacement station at the same coördinates as the previous Deep Space Nine._

_Construction of the new station is already underway at Utopia Planitia Fleet Yards and we will begin shipping parts and construction crews immediate, possibly as soon as this week._

_Each senior officer will assume their current assignment aboard the new station, should you decide to continue such assignment. You will have first right of refusal and as an incumbent, will also have the option to request reassignment of your position aboard the station free from penalty. If you so choose to request reassignment of your position, Starfleet Command will find a suitable alternative assignment for you._

_I sincerely hope all of you are recovering from this ordeal in the comfort of your families' homes and arms. When your Disaster Leave has expired, you will receive another notice with instructions on how and where to return to duty._

_Thank you, and GodSpeed._

_President Nan Bacco_

_United Federation of Planets_

Bashir let a small smile come over his face as he noticed his love's teary gaze fixated on the PADD. Rzepka reached up and took the device from his hand, also reading over the letter from the President.

"Are they for real?"

The words slipped, almost accidentally, out of her mouth. She couldn't believe they were planning on rebuilding so soon, but then again, she could. She doubted it would be built just like the previous station, but would rather be a real Starfleet station with working parts. With a working holodeck and Starfleet hospital. With a real lounge. And docking ports. And compatible technology.

For a moment, the seriousness of the previous letter seemed to fade away. This was Commander Rzepka's wish – to get her station back. It was happening.

"Seems they are," the doctor replied, sitting back in his seat. "Soon, we'll have a new normal. You ready?"

Rzepka offered nothing more than a blank stare. She wasn't sure if she was ready for _anything_.


	33. Chapter 33

Captain Ro Laren glared out the window of her third floor office at the Starfleet Embassy on Bajor. The sun hung high in the sky, casting bright light on every building in the city. The Admiral's voice dragged on but she didn't listen. A vein on her forehead appeared very pronounced as her temper tried to escape with fury and fire. She finally turned to face Admiral Akkar, holding herself together very well.

"Sir," she started. "With all due respect, this is not what you told me."

"What do you mean? I explained to you that the fleet was in need of disbursement before you asked me to keep your senior staff together. You knew this could happen," the Admiral's aged voice seemed uncaring, which infuriated the captain.

"Yes, but I gave up my leave to maintain autonomy over my crew. All I have to do is deny all of these requests and be done with it. So why are they on my desk in the first place?"

Four requests sat neatly across her dark, piano-glossy desk. Starfleet Command delivered them that morning, requesting four of her officers be reassigned during Deep Space Nine reconstruction.

_Lieutenant Commander Jefferson Blackmer - request to be transferred to USS Enterprise - E. _

_Commander Kymberli Rzepka - request to be transferred to USS Aventine. _

_Colonial Cenn Desca - request to remain at Starfleet Embassy on Bajor for intelligence purposes_

_Doctor Guirani __Semna __- request to remain at Starfleet Embassy on Bajor._

"Captain," Akkar started slowly. "The fleet will supplement your vessel with a proper staff. These temporarily duty assignments are necessary to keep the fleet strong to prepare for any issues with the Typhon Pact."

"Then supplement _them_. Don't split up my crew. Please," Captain Ro pleaded. She looked at the Admiral with soft eyes, hoping to catch more flies with honey. "The only thing keeping this crew together is each other. Please."

"Captain, I'm not sure what more I can do. If you do deny these requests, Starfleet will elevate them to the Command. Then you won't have any say."

"What?! That's not fair!"

"It is. We are technically in a time of war. The Starfleet charter explains that any reassignment for warfighting support purposes will be elevated if necessary, regardless of the commanding officer's determination. I might be able to do something about Cenn and Guirani, but there is little I can do about the other two."

"So I'll be without a Chief of Security and a Chief of Engineering? That's cutting a bit low, isn't it?"

Ro's words struck Akkar. He sat momentarily and thought about the situation.

"Captian. I understand your loyalty to your crew. What I don't understand is why you're not seeing the big picture. Every single senior officer has tenure for Deep Space Nine. This is just temporary duty. Hell, Cenn will only be gone for five weeks! I can't sit here all day and argue with you."

"Then why don't you explain to me the big picture."

For another few minutes, Admiral Akkar explained to Ro the situation for the necessary transfers. She rebutted each one with an alternative, and by the time the conversation was over, Akkar overturned almost all the reassignment requests . Rzepka's reassignment was solid as stone.

"I honestly don't understand why they can't find someone else. There are dozens of engineers with command-level clearance. Why not find one of them?" Ro's voice showed her frustration and fatigue.

"Captain Dax requested her. I'll tell you what -" Akkar stood from his chair, already late for another meeting. "If you let this transfer go through quietly, I'll send Miles O'Brien to fill in on _Defiant_."

Ro stood from her chair slowly. "That's a tempting offer, sir, but I'd rather have Rzepka. I'll be speaking with Captain Dax then. Thank you, Admiral. You've been most helpful."

* * *

"We need to talk."

Captain Dax looked up from her desk in her ready room. Ro stood in her doorway with hands on her hips, a scowl on her face.

"Before we do, I need you to check your temper at the door. I don't want a fight," Dax calmly replied. "Please, Captain, sit down."

Ro reluctantly lowered herself in a purple chair and crossed one leg over the other. She folded her hands in her lap politically. "Why _her_? Why _my_ officer?"

Dax looked down at her own folded hands on her black, shiny desk. Her short, dark hair glistened in the ambient light.

"As you know, our Chief Engineer resigned his commission a few weeks ago. My next in line for the position isn't trained well enough to take on the it full-time. With this mission to the neutral zone, I need someone to show my next engineer the ropes. I need someone who has experience with quantum drive. And I need one more command complement. Simply put."

"So you jumped right to Rzepka? I don't understand. Is there no one else who can fill that role?" Ro kept her voice political, but a tiny measure of irritation showed.

"She's served aboard my ship before. She's experienced. We've been looking for a replacement for weeks, no one else fits the bill," Dax said softly, leaning back in her chair. "I hate to admit this, but it's actually perfect timing."

"Dax, I'm not sure where to go from here. I've fought tooth and nail with Akkar to get the rest of my crew back and this is the last one. What can I do to change your mind?"

Dax sighed. "Laren... let me ask you something. What if both Kym and Nog died back on DS9? What would you have done then?"

"I'm not really sure what that has to do with this..." Ro replied, avoiding the question.

"You would have searched high and low to find replacement officers that fit in your team like a glove. I know you would have. Lieutenant Leishman is a valued member of my crew and I want her as my Chief. No one else. The only way I can get her is to get someone to _train_ her. I also need one more command complement in the mean time. I don't have the docket space for two officers, so Commander Rzepka fits the bill for both positions. It's just six months. I'm sure you can understand my need."

Ro stared at her friend for a few long moments and then sighed. "Okay, okay. I see your point. "

Dax leaned forward on her forearms on her desk. "I'm not going to keep her. I swear to it. She belongs with you. I can see how well you work together and I do understand how important it is for you to keep your crew together right now. I promise, the minute i see that Lieutenant Leishman is ready to fly solo, I'll send Kym back. I swear it."

Ro tried to put herself in Dax's shoes. She knew this mission to the neutral zone was imperative for to disarming the Typhon Pact. She knew Aventine needed someone experienced. More than anything, she wanted the Typhon Pact defeated. She crossed her arms over her chest in frustration and heaved another sigh before letting a tiny grin cross her face.

"For the record, I think you _always_ get what you want."

"Not always," Dax replied, also smiling. "If that was true, I _would_ be keeping her."


	34. Chapter 34

While the week on Earth went slower than the one on Betazed, Julian Bashir was still sad when the time came for him to leave his parents. He had the opportunity to introduce Commander Rzepka as his girlfriend to many of his family members and more importantly, his grandmother. He didn't get along well with his parents, but luckily they were manageable for this visit.

Casperia Prime boasted the most reliable enviornment control system in the quadrant. Bashir and Rzepka spent five beautiful days on warm, sandy beaches and relaxing in a swinging hammock. By the end of the week, though, they were both ready to get back to work.

On the way back to Starbase 23, where the fleet assembled, their transport made a stop on Ferenginar - for an event Commander Rzepka didn't care to relive.

_For those of you who do not know me, my name is Kymberli Rzepka and I am one of Nog's friends as well as his commanding officer. It is with great sadness that I stand in front of you today to celebrate our friend. Nog's life was taken away from us too soon and it is hard to understand why tragic things like this happen to such good people. However, this is a question without an answer and we should not dwell on the loss of our dear friend, son and fellow officer. Today let's celebrate his life and remember all of the remarkable things Nog accomplished and how wonderful his life was._

_Nog and I met on Deep Space Nine during my first year there. He was a cadet, a very young cadet, but not for long. Once he was promoted, we were paired together as engineers and this was the first time we both had gone into battle. Nog and I bonded instantly and helped each other get through a difficult first year of t__he Dominion War. Eventually, he and I both became war casualties, bring our relationship even closer. He was always there when I needed someone to talk to. We both got promoted our second year together and he taught me how to play Dabo. I will always look back on Deep Space Nine with fond memories and appreciate getting to know Nog so well._

_Lieutenant Nog was a fine officer. He always volunteered to help when something needed to be done. I knew that I could trust him with anything and I respected him more than words can say. While I took my time teaching him about what it takes to become a commissioned officer, he taught me what it takes to stay young and enjoy life, a lesson that was frequently welcomed during the most difficult parts of the war. He died a hero and a warrior. _

_Nog will be sorely missed. It is incredibly sad that Nog's life ended so soon and I cannot put into words how much I will miss him. Nog was a positive person and would not want us to be sad today. If he were here he would tell us to cheer up, smile and remember all of the great memories we all shared. Even though Nog may be gone, his memory will live on in all of us forever. _

The two weeks that passed since Rzepka's last day on Betazed were a blur. She loved spending so much quality time with her Imdazi. Now the day she dreaded was here. They day of Nog's funeral.

"What's that you're reading so intently?"

The doctor returned from the replicator with a cup of tea in his hand. He lowered himself onto the chair next to Rzepka's. The guest quarters they shared were dark, with large windows to display the pouring rain outside. The Tower of Commerce was visible in the distance, the tallest building on Fereginar.

The commander still wore her pajamas, yet she eyed the dress uniform hanging on the closet door. She already dreaded having to put it on.

"Nog's eulogy."

"It's about time to get ready," the doctor said. He was already dressed in part of his uniform, vice his jacket. "Do you want me to read over it while you get dressed?"

"No, thanks" the commander responded. "It's about as done as it will ever be."

Within a few minutes, Commander Rzepka reappeared wearing her white officer's uniform. It felt stiff and formal. She didn't like it one bit.

"I love seeing you in your dress whites," Bashir gushed softly as he stepped closer to her. He reached out and straightened one of the pips on her collar. "Where's your Pike?"

Rzepka looked down at her officer decorations – fourteen total – affixed to the chest of her tunic.

"To be honest," she started, turning and walking over to the mirror to check her hair one more time. "It brings back some pretty terrible memories. So I don't wear it any more." She combed through her short brown hair. She received the Christopher Pike Medal of Valor after her work disassembling an assassination ring within Starfleet Intelligence and Section 31. Before she disassembled the ring, however, her partner was murdered by them. "And I always thought Captain Pike was a bit of a dickhead anyway."

Bashir's surprise at her statement showed when his mouth flew open, then he burst into laughter. "But you didn't even know him."

"Well," she concluded, finishing her hair and checking her teeth in the mirror. "He did some self-centered things."

Commander Rzepka finished with her hair and teeth, then proceeded out the door of their guest quarters. The officers walked together to the transporter station, quietly, until the doctor broke the silence.

"I know this is hard."

Rzepka looked up at his soft face, wishing they were anywhere but on rainy Ferenginar. The rain let up a few minuets before they left their quarters, but the drizzle started to fall again as they reached the transporter station. His words couldn't mend her broken heart, but they did soothe her soul. Just a tiny bit. She didn't know what to say, but luckily Bashir kept talking.

"I just want you to to know that I love you. And I'm here to support you. And you can do this. You can do _anything_."

Commander Rzepka slipped her hand into his and held it tight. She knew in two more days, they would be arriving back to reality on Starbase 23. Then, back out to the uncertainty of the stars. She wasn't sure she was ready. She needed more time. They both needed more time.


	35. Chapter 35

"Laren. What the hell is this?!"

Captain Ro paced her office aboard _Defiant_ while Commander Rzepka read her deployment orders. The captain pressed her lips together in nervousness and didn't look at the commander.

"Kym, please, I've already gone though the due diligence to change Starfleet's decision. They won't. I realize you're upset, but please, let's just try to talk about this calmly."

"You're kidding me, right? Of course I'm upset. I can't believe the command is doing this. What, they don't think we've been through enough already? Now they're shipping me off to the neutral zone?!" Commander Rzepka's voice sounded less than calm. "Did Dax have anything to do with this?"

Ro looked back up at her friend, wishing she could say something to help her feel better. She didn't have anything except for the truth, but the words wouldn't come out. She merely nodded.

"Why?" Rzepka asked, sounding calmer as she thought about the situation. "Please, tell me why."

"I can't," Ro replied quickly. "It's not my business to share. But Dax can."

Commander Rzepka stood and turned to Captain Ro. "Thank you, Laren. I'll be back."

* * *

When Commander Rzepka finally transported over to _Aventine_, her temper calmed to a point she was able to ask the right questions. She stopped by Bashir's quarters to tell him what was going on, and he shared her frustration and anger. Rzepka assured him she would try her hardest to change the captain's mind.

Commander Sam Bowers greeted her from the captain's seat as she walked onto the bridge on her way to Dax's office.

"Good afternoon, Commander Rzepka. Hey, I heard about..." The evil looks Rzepka shot to her old friend forced him to stumble over his words like a teenager on a first date.

"your... trans...fer... Yeah, um, she's in her office," he stammered. Bowers and Rzepka served together for a few months aboard DS9 before she transferred to Betazed and he transferred to _Aventine_.

When Rzepka walked into Dax's office, the captain had already prepared coffee and danish.

"_Sam_ knows?"

"Of _course_ he knows," Dax casually said, placing the creamer pitcher down on the silver tray. "My entire staff knows. Secrets can't be kept around here. Please, sit down."

Rzepka plopped into a purple plush chair and eyed the coffee. "You trying to win me over with caffeine?"

Dax sat back in her own chair across her desk and picked up a cup. "You've been traveling all day. I thought you could use a boost."

"Stop playing games, Ezri. We need to talk about this," Rzepka argued firmly. "Or rather, _you_ need to talk about this. I need to know why."

Dax placed her cup back down on the desk and stood from her chair. "I'll do better than that. I'll show you why."

As they walked together to Engineering, Dax explained the situation with her previous engineer chief and the need to have a new one trained. Dax hoped when Rzepka saw the new quantum slipstream drive, she wouldn't be able to resist the assignment. They entered engineering and immediately were approached by a tall, young lieutenant.

"Captain, Oy'm glaud you are heir. Oy have the diagnuhstic repoohrt on the slipstream droyve. Ohll systems ah now oonline and ooperational, sah."

As he handed over the PADD in his hand, he reached his hand out to Rzepka. "Lieutenant Craig Little, a plesha to meet you, Comoondah."

Rzepka held out her hand, still trying to understand what he was saying. He spoke so fast, she only caught every other word through his thick British accent. "I'm sorry, what's your name again?"

"Cray-g. Lit-tle. Sah."

"Mr. Little, this is Commander Kymberli Rzepka. She'll be our Chief Engineer for the next few months," Dax explained, still looking over the information on the PADD. Lieutenant Little gripped her hand harder when he realized who she was.

"MY! Well, tell me, comoondah, what fehld of enginaairing ahh you in?"

Commander Rzepka gave the Lieutenant a sideways glance and she drew her hand out of his. "Molecular..."

"Ah, oy see. Took the easy way out of school, eh? Well, moy specialty is in quoontum mechanics, specifically slipstream testing and desoyne," Little clamored on. "Oy suspect oy will be ooffering significant goydance dyuring yoor time heir. Don't worry, Oy'm up foor a challenge."

"_Thank you_, Mr. Little," Dax said, almost too loudly. He got the point and looked back at Rzepka.

"Well, it was noyce to meet you," he said quickly before turning away. "Look foohward to wahking with you."

"Me... too..." Rzepka still looked at him sideways, unsure if he was speaking a language she understood. Once he was gone and out of earshot, Rzepka slowly turned to Dax. She motioned her thumb in the direction of which the lieutenant exited the area. "He doesn't help your case, you know."

"He's not mine," Dax explained with a sigh as she turned toward the engine bay. "He's from the command. He's on the slipstream testing team."

"Really. Well..." Rzepka said slowly as she followed the captain. "_He'll_ take come getting used to."

As the women rounded the corner, a soft orange light caught Rzepka's eye. Her heart thumped in her chest with excitement. Standing in front of her, still and majestic, was the first quantum slipstream warp drive she'd ever laid her eyes on.

"Oh wow," she breathed. "Is this... is it... still a test... model?"

Dax shook her head. "Nope. She's the real deal."

Rzepka stood mesmerized at the enormous warp drive in front of her. It stood at least ten feet above her head, protected by an equally enormous radiation shield. The orange and yellow chemical mixture churned inside the core slowly, stirring together like a molten lava. The swirling plasma appeared almost metallic, pearlized even, as it rotated slowly and rhythmically. Shiny new couplers and injectors shimmered in the soft orange light, adding an element of sparkle to the engine. The quiet, peaceful hum from the engine comforted her ears and seemed to soothe her problems - even the transfer.

"This," Dax's soft voice practically whispered. "Is why I need you."

"Ezri," Rzepka calmly argued, never taking her eyes off the drive in front of her. "I don't know Quantum drive as well as I know Gravimetric drive. Surely, someone else is more experienced than I am..."

"Eh, that's why you have Little. No, this goes beyond just the drive. Come on," Dax explained. "I'll introduce you to the reason you're here."

Reluctantly, Rzepka tore her gaze away from the core and followed Captain Dax around the perimeter of the engine, ending up on the opposite side and face to face with the most beautiful Vulcan woman Rzepka had ever seen.

"Lieutenant Leishman?"

The woman looked up at Dax with a straight but soft face. "Captain."

"Lieutenant, this is Commander Kymberli Rzepka. Commander, this..." Dax paused, letting Rzepka absorb the situation. "Is Lieutenant Mikaela Leishman. She's next in line to move up to Chief Engineer."

The Vulcan held out her hand to Rzepka, which she took and shook. Rzepka was stunned by the woman's mind and her ability to completely block her emotions.

"It's nice to meet you," Rzepka said calmly. Leishman nodded.

"Thank you, Commander. And you as well. When do you begin your assignment aboard _Aventine_?"

"Two days," Rzepka kept her conversation short.

"Very well. I am a fast learner, but I require practical exercises. I understand you have a great deal of experience to share and I am reasonably eager by your assignment here," Leishman said, her voice remaining calm and monotone. "I am... looking forward... to it, even."

As Dax and Rzepka walked back out of engineering, Rzepka still seemed as confused as before.

"So what exactly _am_ I going to be doing here?"

"Organizing my engineering team. Keeping them on track. Filling in on command on the bridge when I need you. Learning about quantum slipstream drive..." Dax said slowly.

"What role does Leishman have in all of this?"

"She needs you. Probably more than I need you. She needs to learn to open up to her crew. She needs to know what it takes to be a chief. She has the intelligence. I need you to show her the heart. I need her to be the best."

Rzepka stopped in the middle of the corridor. Dax stopped and turned toward her.

"Let me get this straight. You need me... to teach a _Vulcan_ how to be empathetic. While a know-it-all quantum engineer with no respect for authority breathes down my neck. While running a quantum warp core and a crew that I don't know. While maintaining command-level responsibilities. In the Neutral Zone."

"Yep, that about covers it. What, you don't like a challenge now?" Dax replied with a coy smile on her face. Rzepka could only laugh. "Come on, it'll be fun."

As the women continued walking, Rzepka shook her head. "I'm pretty sure 'fun' wasn't my first thought, but okay. I'm in. For you. No one else."

"Thank you," Dax breathed. "You still owe me one for saving your ass, anyway."


	36. Chapter 36

"What do you mean _you can't change her mind_?"

Julian Bashir squirmed in his chair as the anger welled up in his stomach. After all he had gone through over the past month, he felt ill prepared to deal with deployment drama.

"I mean," Commander Rzepka started briskly, pacing Bashir's quarters. "I can't change her mind. I've tried. She has a legitimate need. I don't know what else I can do, Imdazi. It's only for six months, maybe shorter."

Bashir turned and looked out the window of his quarters aboard _Defiant_. Tomorrow ended their Disaster Leave and Commander Rzepka received deployment orders to report to Aventine for temporary duty the following day.

"I don't think you tried very hard then," Bashir said coldly back. "I think part of you _wants_ to go."

"Julian," Rzepka replied, feeling a bit annoyed, mostly because he was right. "Listen. I have talked to Ro. I've talked to Dax. I have to go. But I'll be back. Come on."

"No, _you_ come on," Bashir shot back, his voice getting louder. "It's not like we haven't endured enough loss, now they're reassigning you?! We were told all of us would stay together. And goddamn it… obviously that's not happening."

"And you're angry," Rzepka said. "I understand. And I'm sorry. This isn't my fault."

"I need you to stay," Bashir's words became sharper and sharper. "_All of us_ need you to stay."

"There is _nothing_ I can do. Please hear me!" Rzepka practically yelled, her temper flaring when she sensed his anger.

"I can't!" his voice became a yell too. "I can't hear you! I can't do anything! I can't deal with this! Not now!"

"I really need you to grow up and get a hold of this. I don't want our last day to be like this."

Bashir turned back to Rzepka, inching closer to her, the vein on his forehead pulsing. "Grow up?! Don't you think I've grown enough? Don't you think we're both damaged enough?!"

"I'm over this," Rzepka replied, putting her hands up and turning to leave. "When you're ready to be rational, let me know"

A pulse of anger came over Bashir and although his mind told him to stop, he reached out and grabbed her arm, forcing her to turn back to him. He knew his grip on her was too rough but he couldn't let her go.

"Let. Go. Of. Me."

Her words were ice. Bashir never heard such seriousness from her. Finally his hand released her, but his anger raged on. He lowered his voice to a growl. "_Don't_ walk away from me."

"If I don't, I'm going to say something I'll regret. And I don't want to have to hear your shit about it."

Bashir's brown eyes widened with another wave of anger. In a flash of a second, he raised his hand and aimed it at his lover's face, hitting her hard in the mouth with the back of his knuckle. The blow sent Rzepka stumbling backwards before her hand flew to her face in recovery. Julian's jaw dropped in shock over what he'd done and his eyes welled up with warm, stinging tears.

"Oh my god," he muttered as the anger melted from his expression. "Kym. My god. I'm so sorry. I don't…. I don't know what came over me….."

He reached out a trembling hand to her in a futile attempt of comfort, but she stepped backed quickly. When she slowly lowered her hand from her mouth, the doctor gasped at the blood trickling out of the corner of her lip.

"Kym…"

She flinched again and slinked toward the door. "Don't fucking touch me. Ever. Again.

* * *

"Oh god, what happened to you?!"

Rzepka found herself standing in Captian Dax's doorway a short time later. The blood from her mouth had already partially dried on her chin and her palm appeared covered.

"I ran into a doorway," she said dryly. "Can I come in?"

Dax stepped back to let her friend in. After the door closed, Rzepka sat down on the Captain's sofa and sighed. "Do you have any ice?"

"Yeah," Dax replied quickly, already aiming for the bar near the replicator. Commander Rzepka was always impressed by the size of the Captain's Quarters aboard Aventine – it seemed very luxurious. When the Captain returned with a small bit of ice wrapped in a towel, she sat down next to the commander. "Want to tell me what really happened?"

The commander shook her head. She didn't want to admit what happened. Sure, she'd heard stories about women who are abused and always felt like it was their fault, that he didn't mean it, that she caused it….

She felt all of those things and was embarrassed to admit it.

When Dax saw the look on the commander's face, she knew. She placed her hand on the commander's arm. "Did he hit you?"

Rzepka's teary eyes met the Captain's. "I don't even know why I came here."

"You came for help. Please tell me what happened."

Rzepka shook her head again. "I don't know what to do, Zee. I thought he was getting better. He was so calm during our leave. Julian needs help that I can't offer him." Her head kept shaking and she furrowed her eyebrows. "I'm just making it worse."

"How are you making it worse?" Dax put on her counselor voice and gently urged Rzepka to tell the story.

"I said horrible things to him. I instigated a hostile conversation. He's upset that I've been assigned to _Aventine_. We were told by the command that we would stay together, but it didn't end up that way. He was angry. Oh god…. He was so angry… I felt how angry he was. I've never felt anything like that from him. It was like… he was another person."

Dax sighed as her memory drifted back to Audrid's husband. Her previous host has been abused by her husband for several months before she finally had the courage to tell someone. Dax admired her friend for the courage she always had – not just in this situation.

"What did he hit you with?" Dax's voice remained calm and quiet. Rzepka continued to look at her lap, one hand on her knee and the other still holding the ice to her mouth.

"The back of his hand."

Dax stood and reached down for her friend's hand. "Come on. Let's make sure your teeth aren't broken and we'll figure out what to do, okay?"

"I don't want to turn him in. I want him to get help," Rzepka argued, pulling the ice away from her face. She had already started to bruise and the swelling looked pronounced. "I just want him to be himself again."

"I know. I want that too. But he will never get real help unless _you_ do something. And you might have to play dirty to do it. Come on. Simon will know who we can talk to."


	37. Chapter 37

**How about three chapters in one day? This story is already complete (just three or so more chapters to go), so I'm just trying to give you guys time to read. Please, if you don't mind, take a minute toward the end of this novel and let me know what you thought. Good, Bad, indifferent... all of your feedback is important to me! **

**Thanks again for reading. Thank you so much. **

**And... I don't own Paramount. Just in case you were wondering. **

"The good news is," Simon Tarses declared as closed the tricorder and reached for the dermal regenerator. "Your face is still intact." He held Commander Rzepka's chin in his careful hand as he focused on the injury inside her mouth."The bad news is Julian's won't be when I get a hold of him."

"Hey hey," Captain Dax replied sternly, crossing her arms across her chest. "We're not having any of _that_."

Rzepka sat still and quiet on a biobed as Captain Dax explained the situation. Tarses finished and put away his tools, then crossed his arms as Dax finished her story.

"What can I do to help?" Tarses looked at Dax, then turned his attention to Rzepka. "What do _you_ want me to do to help?"

"I want him to get himself straightened out. I want him in therapy. I need to know how to get him to do that," Rzepka replied quietly.

"I can turn him in on medical necessity. He can even stay here on Starbase 23, they have the best psychiatric facilities available this side of the quadrant." Tarses replied quickly. "Is that what you want?"

Rzepka nodded.

"Where is he?"

"_Defiant_. I left him in his quarters. I don't know if he's still there."

Tarses turned to the captain. "I'm going to talk to him. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Don't hit him!" Dax called after him. The doctor flashed a thumbs-up as he stormed out of sick bay.

* * *

Captain Ro's voice seemed calm but stern. "We're going to get this straightened out. Where is the commander now?"

Bashir poorly pretended to rub something out of his eye, eliminating the tear from falling down his cheek. Security Chief Jefferson Blackmer sat across from the doctor in the Captain's ready room on _Defiant_. The doctor called Blackmer after Rzepka stormed out, but despite Bashir's request for custody, the chief couldn't do anything without a statement from the commander.

"I don't know. She turned toward the transporter room, so my guess would be _Aventine_. Or the station."

A pang of hurt came across Ro's face. Her head throbbed with stress and lack of sleep and nervousness. Before she could think of what to do, her chime rang again. _Must be a party_, she thought.

"Please enter!" she called. A face she hadn't seen in a while appeared in the doorway, looking around for permission to come in.

"Doctor Tarses," the captain stood out of her chair, another thump of her heart telling her more bad news waited on the horizon. "What can I do for you?"

The tall, quarter-Romulan doctor invited himself into the Captain's office, letting the doors hiss softly behind him. "I would like to have a few words with Doctor Bashir, if you don't mind. Privately."

As soon as Bashir heard his name, he stood and turned toward the door. Tarses wore a look of worry and anger on his face, igniting Bashir's pounding heart again.

"Of course," The captain said, "That is, if you don't have anything further, Chief." Blackmer shook his head and kept quiet as usual. Bashir turned to the Captain and pressed his lips together.

"I'll be in my office."

* * *

The long, silent walk to Sick Bay offered Dr. Tarses time to calm himself down and put the commander's bloody face out of his mind before he started a difficult conversation with his friend. As soon as the door to Bashir's office closed, however, the disgust for the situation came flooding out even though Tarses tried to keep his voice relatively calm.

"_What the HELL _were you thinking?!"

Bashir sat behind his desk, Tarses seated himself in a chair across from the desk. Sick Bay hummed in relative silence, with the exception of Dr. Alyum clicking away at her console, reconciling a few last-minute inventory items before the ship disembarked in the morning. Otherwise, the main room sat empty and dark. Just the way Bashir liked it.

"Simon… have you seen her?"

Tarses nodded, raising his eyebrows in a matter-of-fact confirmation. "You're avoiding the question. Please, I'm dying to know."

His words fell sharp on Bashir's ears, whose mind ran in many different directions. His palms warmed his lap where he rested them, his slumped shoulders supported the entire weight of his heavy body. His voice felt smaller than his perception of himself.

"Is she okay?"

"You don't have a right to ask!" Tarses exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his chair. As a few breaths helped him calm down his temper, he reminded himself Bashir _needed_ to know. "She's fine….. physically. Emotionally, I don't know. I doubt it."

"Simon…." Bashir started, still staring down into his lap. He noticed a dried droplet of blood splattered on his right boot toe; he wondered if it came from Commander Rzepka or the ensign he treated that afternoon for a nosebleed. "Something's wrong with me. I can't think clearly. I can't sleep – I have nightmares constantly. _Everything_ seems catastrophic. I've got classic symptoms – I startle like the world is ending... Again...I thought I was bigger. I thought I was stronger. I tried to fight it. But it's not enough." He propped his elbows on the desk and rested his face in his hands. "I'm sinking like a stone and I don't know what to do. And now I've destroyed the one thing that ever made any sense in my life."

Tarses released the tension in his face as he heard the desperate words from his former commanding officer. The person Tarses looked up to not so long ago was now a broken man, crawling across the threshold to a place no doctor ever wanted to go. Although Dr. Tarses knew the answer, he asked Bashir the question of the hour anyway. "Symptoms of... what?"

Bashir's face lifted to meet that of his friend's, which softened to that of a concerned doctor. In that moment at his own desk, Dr. Bashir admitted he was less than superior, less than omniscient... less than perfect. "Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Each time I think about it, I wonder what kind of man I've become. What kind of _doctor_ I've become."

"How long have these symptoms been going on?" Tarses pressed, leaning back in his chair. His emotions quickly turned from anger to sympathy, from disdain to sorrow.

"The nightmares started during the Dominion War," Bashir started, letting his guard down and sitting back in his chair, crossing the blood-plattered boot over his leg. "After Starfleet took back the station. The anxiety started shortly after the Borg Invasion of Romulus. And this… everything else…. well….. you can probably put those pieces together."

_Nine years_, Tarses thought. _How has he been dealing with this for nine years?"_

"From a professional – and ethical – point of view… you shouldn't practice medicine without getting some help." Tarses floundered for the next words to say. "From a personal point of view.. we're here to help you. Your friends. Your fellow officers. Your _service family_. We're here. And we all care about you. Especially Commander Rzepka."

Bashir scoffed, mostly at himself. "I doubt she'll ever speak to me again. I wouldn't."

"I wouldn't make that assumption just yet," Tarses replied quickly. "Let me ask you something. Do you remember that night she came in with neural shock? From the poisoning?"

Bashir nodded, feeling his blood pressure rise with the thought of that terrible night.

"Do you remember what you said to me when we were sitting in your office, weighing the odds on whether or not she was going to survive?"

Bashir shook his head and tried to get his blood pressure under control. "I don't really like to think about that."

"You said that you couldn't let anything happen to her. You _swore_ to me you weren't going to let her die, if by some miracle your intentions alone could keep her alive. Do you remember that?"

Bashir recalled the night again during a long pause. He slowly nodded and remembered the words like he spoke them yesterday.

"I've never seen you get that emotional over a patient. Not even Captain Kira when you held her shredded heart in your hands. I _knew_ that night you were in love with Kym Rzepka. Hell, I think I knew it before _you_ knew it."

Bashir nodded again, still not saying anything before Tarses continued.

"Julian, that young lady _needs_ you. She needs to feel protected. She needs to be supported. She deserves it," Tarses leaned forward in his chair. "And you need her. By not getting the help you need… by continuing on the path of ignorance you've been on…. You will slowly kill both of you from the inside. You're already doing it. And the vow you made to me that night two years ago will be in vain."

Bashir looked up at his friend and realized he spoke nothing but truth. His guard broke completely down as the flood gates opened and he found himself covering up his sobs. "You're right," he squeaked out. "You're right. I do need her. My god, what have I done…?"

Tarses stood in place in front of his chair. "You made a mistake. As much as you like to deny it, you're still human, just like the rest of us. And now you're going to make it right. And I'm going to help you."


	38. Chapter 38

Commander Rzepka wished she hadn't enjoyed that second glass of wine as she made her way through the twisted corridors of _Aventine_ toward Sick Bay. Dr. Tarses sounded like he wanted to share something important with her, so she couldn't waste too much time trying to cover her wine-breath.

Six hours prior, she showed up at the same door with a bloody mouth and a broken spirit. Now she felt indifferent, not really sure what to say or think. She knew she probably should talk to Captain Ro, but she didn't want to face it right then. She didn't want to face anything – just sweep it under the rug and pretend it didn't exist. She felt slightly thankful for her deployment - it gave her an excuse to run from her problems. Again.

Dr. Tarses harbored other plans for her. She entered the Sick Bay receiving area and he met her at the door.

"Evening, Commander," he said with a small smile on his face. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, but Ezri is a glass ahead of me and we're embarking to the neutral zone tomorrow. Maybe you should ask me in the morning." Commander Rzepka smiled at the doctor, but then dropped her smile when she sensed his seriousness. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I have someone here who would like to see you." The doctor led her through the imaging suite to a private room in the back of sick bay. On the sole bio bed in the room sat Julian Bashir, looking a little pale but otherwise fine. When he looked up at the commander, their eyes locked, as they always did. Rzepka quickly diverted her gaze back to Tarses.

"What is this?"

"I'll let Julian tell you." The doctor spun on his heel and quickly left before Commander Rzepka could argue with him. The commander stood still, looking at the floor and trying to figure out how to escape back to the comfort of her bottle of wine.

"Kym, please come here," Bashir said. His voice sounded soft and gentle, the way Rzepka remembered last hearing months ago. "Please."

The anger and pain she sensed from him hours ago vanished during the time they were apart. Curious, she stepped closer to him and looked at him with serious eyes. "You're different."

Bashir nodded. He felt calmer in that moment than he had in the past two years, amazingly. "It's called Stellate Ganglion Block."

"What?" Rzepka shook her head in confusion and slight drunkenness. "What is that?"

"When a person is under massive stress, the level of nerve growth factor in the nervous system increases. NGF prompts the growth of new sympathetic nerves, which release a hormone called norepinephrine.

"SGB essentially "turns off" the nerve growth factor activity, reducing the amount of norepinephrine in a person's system. Norepinepherine initiates the "fight or flight" response. My NGF had gotten so high, I couldn't control my heart rate or blood pressure any more." As Bashir explained the procedure he just underwent, Rzepka's mind started clearing. She realized he was already on the road to recovery and didn't even have to do anything.

"So… is that it? Is it over?"

"No," Bashir admitted. He shook his head while still staring at her face. "It's not over. But it's a start. A good one. I'm going on medical leave for the next few weeks and I'll be staying here at Starbase 23 for therapy." Bashir looked at Rzepka's face where he struck her a few hours earlier. She looked only slightly bruised and swollen now. He reached out his hand to her and waited for her to take it. "C'mere."

Sensing concern, but not worry, from him, she trusted him and took his hand. He guided her to his side, then took her sore chin gently in his other hand. She winced slightly when he touched the sore spot near the corner of her mouth with his fingertips.

"Still sore?"

The commander nodded as Bashir continued to palpate her jaw, looking for signs of injury or swelling.

"That's what the wine was supposed to be for." She flinched again as the doctor pressed down on a muscle on the side of her neck.

"Sorry about that," Bashir apologized gently. "Didn't Simon treat that strained muscle?"

Rzepka chuckled at the doctor's concern. "No," she replied. "He was too concerned with getting his hands around _your_ neck."

Bashir dropped his hands away from her face and hung his head slightly. "Kym, I'm –"

The commander put up her hand to silence his apology.

"I know."

The doctor stood from the biobed, letting a wave of dizziness pass before standing straight. Before he moved to hold her, she reached out her arms and laced them under his. She buried her face in his chest and listened to his soft, rhythmic heartbeat.

"I'm glad you're going to be okay," she whispered. They held each other for not nearly as long as Bashir would have liked before the commander pulled away from his grasp. "Can we go somewhere to talk?"

Bashir pressed his lips together and shook his head. "Tarses wants to do another scan in thirty minutes and I need to deliver paperwork to Ro before the end of the day." He ran his fingers through her silky brown hair, brushing a lock out of her face. "Looks like this will have to do for our goodbye."

Commander Rzepka sighed as she laced her fingers into Bashir's other hand. "I don't want to go. I don't know _Aventine's_ system as well as _Defiant's_."

"I know you don't," he replied. "But it's going to be okay. You're going to do great, as long as you and Ezri lay off the wine."

Rzepka laughed. "But that's our coping mechanism. We can't run this starship without it." The commander looked up at her imdazi. "I'm going to miss you."

Blinking, Bashir reached up and stroked her soft hair again. "I'm going to miss _you_. And I'm planning on spending the next six months thinking of all the ways I'm going to make this up to you."

Rzepka smiled, pressing her face against his hand. She wished she could stay here forever with him touching her face. "I need to leave soon."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because if I don't…" she stood on her tip toes and leaned in close to his ear for a whisper. "_I'm going to tie you up and stow you away in my quarters for the duration of this tri_p."

Before the doctor could respond to Rzepka's remarkably naughty statement, Tarses poked his head into the suite. "Ten minutes until I need to get in here."

Bashir laughed. "Okay, thanks." After Tarses left, Bashir turned his attention back to the commander. "I need you to listen to me carefully. Make sure Simon has at least six months' supply of Drexa on hand. Starfleet might not be able to get a transport out to you to replenish the supply. He doesn't think ahead about stuff like that."

"Okay," Rzepka laughed. She already knew to ask about her medication, but she appreciated Bashir's concern anyway. "I'm sure he's prepared to take on a basket case like me."

"I bet he's not. Just check okay?"

"Okay!" Rzepka laughed again. "I promise."

"And…" Bashir continued. "If you can't sleep for more than two or three days, be sure to get something to help. An Alpha Wave inducer is okay, but if it goes on for more than a few weeks, just ask Simon for a –"

"Julian!" Rzepka interrupted. She smiled at him as he grinned at her. She shook her head as he shrugged.

"I know how you get; you can't sleep on a starship," he admitted. "Three days tops, okay?"

Rzepka nodded. "This is why I love you."

Bashir leaned in close to her, kissing her on the lips. Softly at first, then more passionately. When she pulled away, she looked at him in the eyes.

"And I _do_ still love you."

"Promise me two things: that you'll be careful and you'll come home to me." Bashir's voice sounded small and vulnerable. Rzepka fought back her emotions as she made him a promise she wasn't sure she could keep.

"I will. I promise. And I'm always careful."


	39. Chapter 39

The reflection in the window displayed a broken down man. He didn't like it one bit. He positioned his body so the light wouldn't cast his reflection, but everywhere he moved, he followed himself.

_Damn, it's like a house of horrors_, he thought to himself, peering past his own image.

Still, Julian Bashir continue to gaze out of the window of Starbase 23, waiting patiently and ignoring his reflection. The very early hour - 0500 - prevented a crowd on the observation deck. He knew _Aventine's_ departure wouldn't be long now. Shifting the weight to his other foot, he sighed with discontent.

He thought about the past weeks' events. He would give anything to get that time back he'd spent feeling miserable. All fights and tears wouldn't exist. _I would try harder, that's a fact._

_Aventine _finally moved into view of the window, backing slowly away from the station and rotating toward open space. Light from the station glimmered on the warship's outer hull, lending a magical effect to the enormous vessel. He felt a small surge of pride knowing his girlfriend's hand helped run that ship. Well, kind of. Then he felt a pang of sorrow.

The ship rotated even more into position for take off and powered the engines. The doctor held up his hand in a sad wave, knowing she couldn't see him, but feeling better about dragging himself out of bed at an ungodly hour to see her off.

"Don't forget your promise, Love," he whispered to himself as _Aventine's_ nacelles glowed to life and carried the ship away. In a moment, they were gone and Bashir felt alone. Again. He wondered what it would be like to never have to say goodbye again. He longed for the day when he didn't have to send her off to war ever again. At least, not without going with her. _Stop worrying, Jules_, he thought to himself. _She's going to be fine. What's the worst that can happen in the Neutral Zone? It's just six months. Not six years. _

He stood at the window for another few minutes before turning and walking out slowly into the corridor. Early risers filled the corridor of the social deck, most of them filing into the cafe or walking to their post. Some were Starfleet officers, some were civilians. The scene before him reminded him of the Promenade on Deep Space Nine. It's always bustling in the morning. Or at least, it was.

He knew _Defiant_ would be leaving soon, but he didn't mind much. He knew they wouldn't travel too far away - they were assigned to patrol the Bajoran sector. And they would return when his medical leave was over to get him.

Bashir made his way to the central core of the station, trying to remember the way to Sick Bay. His counselor's office, just inside the Sick Bay, awaited him as the first appointment of the day. Finally, he figured out which way to go and found himself outside the Sick Bay doors. A wave of nervousness came over him as the doors hissed open.

_I can't believe I'm doing this... again._

* * *

Inside the Tholian Embassy gathered five members of the Typhon Pact advisory panel: Breen, Tzenkethi, Kinshaya, Tholian, and Gorn. The Tholian Ambassador, Krull, sat at the head of the small silver conference table. The room glowed dim, only lit by a few red lights recessed into the vaulted ceiling. All of the men looked equally dismayed that not only had Romulus taken liberties to elect a new praetor without sending a replacement to the Pact advisory panel, but they felt the Pact was moving nowhere. The Federation gained ground and the Pact did nothing to prepare after the Praetor's death. The ambassadors sat eager and blood thirsty to make a move on the Federation before the Federation made a move on _them_.

Krull understood the situation with the Federation was serious. The whistle blower agent involved with the bombing of Deep Space Nine was very much alive and still feeding information back to Ambassador Krull, luckily.

"We have new intel that I must share with you," he suddenly said. The other ambassadors quieted down and turned their attention to Krull. He cleared his throat again, still slightly uncomfortable with his new position as leader of the panel. "It's from the Federation. They are apparently moving ten patrol and battleships to the neutral zone today."

"Why?" Peq'Nor, the representative from Kinshaya, squirmed in his seat. His eyes looked wide and it seems like he always wore a look of surprise on his face, regardless of the announcement.

"We believe they are patrolling the area while a new station is built to protect the wormhole. "

"If a new station is built, we will be back at square one. Then we may never get to the gamma quadrant," the Gorn Representative piped up. "And then... the praetor's death would be in vain. And we can't let that happen."

"Who cares about the praetor now!" Krull's anger showed in his eyes. "She left us like a coward. We _must_ move forward regardless of what she might have wanted or thought."

The room fell silent. Each representative looked at each other, expecting the other to say something brilliant. After a few more minutes, Krull spoke up again.

"I think we need to send out a welcoming party," he said casually. "You know. To say hello. Again."

"Do we know what ships?" The Breen Ambassador suddenly chimed in. Krull shook his head.

"We know a few. _Rutledge_, _Enterprise_, _Aventine_, _Esquiline_, and _Promethius_. That's the first wave. We have no information on the second wave."

The Breen Ambassador picked his head up and looked at the Tholian. "I am willing to gather a fleet of warships. Our new weapon systems could use testing."

"Very well," Krull said, breathing a sigh. "Mobilize within the next three hours. The Federation will arrive in the Neutral Zone within eight hours."

The Breen Representative nodded.

"What will be our orders when we arrive in the Neutral Zone?"

Krull thought for a moment. A standoff could take many months and would waste resources. A patrol would prove nothing, other than the Pact has nothing to protect. No, he wanted something more. He wanted results.

"Destroy them. All of them. Then report back to me for further instruction. We will _not_ fail again."

_**To be continued... **_


End file.
